Royal Problems: Chad's Secret
by AshLandWriter
Summary: After Chad takes a 'break' from Ben for the final time, he spirals down into a pit of spiritual depression. The only thing that helps him cope with his trauma is the very thing he promised Ben to get better from: his morphine addiction. But why should he care? It's not like Ben ever did.
1. Never Getting Back Together

**About this Fic: **

**1) **This is part of the **Isle Problems** series, and it's highly recommended that you read the first two fanfictions in that series before starting this one.

**2)** This fic will contain religion. It is not my purpose here to say one is better than another, nor is it to say religion as a whole is bad. It is merely a large part of this character's identity, and any characters of the religions are not meant to represent the religion as a whole. That being said, I am nonreligious, and although I try my best to research, I am sorry if there are any inaccuracies. That being said, even within a specific denomination, there can be differences from church to church, so keep that in mind as to avoid taking offense.

**3)** This fic will contain LGBT content, and there may be references or subject matter pertaining to sensitive topics, such as drug use and sexual abuse.

\- PS: I'm tired, so I'm sorry if the disclaimers come off as sloppy. I was just excited to post this story. I can't wait to see what you guys think.

* * *

**Never Getting Back Together **

**(Saturday Afternoon, July 21****st****)**

Chad looks out the window, as his father exits Ben's castle and returns to the car. The door opens, and Chad questions, "What did he say?"

His dad starts the car, "He said he didn't do anything."

Chad shakes his head, "Typical."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Chad sighs, "He just started staring at my neck, frickin' hematolagniac."

"Hematolagniac?"

"Clinical term for a blood fetish," Chad answers, "and I think it's about time Ben got some help for it."

"If that is what's going on with him," his dad speculates, "I'm not sure it's something that can just be gotten rid of."

"I'm pretty sure drinking blood is a sin," Chad reminds him.

"Yeah," he slowly agrees, "but some people don't have a choice, and if this the way God made him, there's a reason for it."

Chad takes a minute, "That's like saying it's okay to be gay." before he eyes over to him, waiting for a response.

"Ben's probably an atheist, because it's a sin to do the things he does." He pauses, "I bet if people were more accepting, he would have stayed with the Lord."

"What kind of non-answer is that?" Chad counters. "If someone you knew was gay, do you really think that would be okay?"

"We don't hate the sinner, Chad," he remarks. "We hate the sin."

He mumbles, "Isn't that the same thing?"

"Okay," his dad sighs. "Think of it this way; sinners cannot make it into heaven and so we encourage them not to sin, but if the sinner thinks God hates them, they will deny Him."

Chad glances down, "Does God hate them?" before he looks at him. "I mean, if Ben did mess around with a guy, does that mean God hates him?"

"No. The Lord knows humans are flawed. That is why Jesus died for our sins. He knew we would remain sinners, but His sacrifice reminds us to strive to do our best not to be. Because, as God lost His son, we could lose our chance to have an afterlife with our heavenly father." Chad doesn't speak, and he comments, "You know, the stuff you did with Ben may have been sexual to him, but it wasn't for you. God wouldn't hold that against you, but you shouldn't let him do it. Ben's clearly grown attached, and it's not good for either of you."

"What makes you think I let him?" Chad asks.

"Because, you told me you did."

After his dad gives a long look, Chad sighs, "He's my best friend, and… I liked the attention, I guess."

He hesitates, "I hate to bring this up again, but are you sure you don't need a girlfriend?"

"Dad," he warns.

"You're a very social person," he reasons. "I just don't want you getting attention from the wrong places." Chad's eyes lower, and he continues, "It's just something to think about."

* * *

When Chad opens his laptop, the internet opens to his inbox and he sees the new email from Mr. Hawthorne, the heading reading _Fieldtrip Reminder_. Chad shakes his head, before he deletes it. There's no way he's going on that, now. His eyes move down to the corner of the screen, as he receives a new message from Ben. He opens it, and he sees Ben's message: _Please, talk to me_.

Chad takes a minute, before he comments: _If I talk to you, you'll make me forgive you_.

_Forgive me for what?_

He hesitates: _I'm livestreaming a new video. Watch it, and you'll figure it out_.

_Chad. What did I do wrong?_ He sits, hands on the keyboard, before Ben types again. _Thinking isn't a crime. I never judged you for liking me. Why do you have to be like this?_

Chad merely replies: _Watch the livestream_. Before Ben can say any more, he opens a new tab and exits from his email. He prepares himself, before he gets the stream ready and smiles, "Good evening, Auradon." He glances at the chat, "Yes. I know thirty minutes is a little short notice, but I just really had to get this off my chest." He pauses, "So, I have this friend, right? There's this girl who drives him crazy. Problem is, she's not exactly into his kink, so he's been all hot and bothered. Now, can you guess who he tried to get with?"

After a moment examining the chat, he laughs, "Yes, well, my middle name is Charming." He falters, "Anyway, I didn't think it was sexual myself and I was okay with the extra attention, so I entertained him. Things got messy, though. If I didn't feel like entertaining him, he'd get all frustrated. And the second I wanted to get something out of it, he said no. You see, it was okay if I satisfied his sick fetish, but he didn't want to do anything for me." He notices the chat, "What was his fetish? Um." and he hesitates. "Blood. He has a thing for blood." He frowns at the chat, "No. He's not a vampire. Blood just turns him on, like he would get hard—which I only know, because he was practically on top of me, sucking my neck." The chat speeds up, and Chad's brows furrow, "I have more friends than Ben. You can't assume it's him."

He takes a deep breath, "Point is, I wanted to know that I actually meant something to him, that I was still like his friend and not some… boytoy he was just using." He stares into the camera, "I gave him a ton of options for him to prove I meant as much to him as he did to me, and he didn't take any of them. So, I broke it off with him, and hallelujah; he comes back and promises he will change. That lasted about until him and his girlfriend broke up over his stupid fetish, and he started wanting me again. It's been this on-and-off friendship, and I am so tired of him not knowing what he wants." He grins, "You know what song this calls for." before he leans forward. "We're never getting back together. Like, ever."

* * *

When Chad enters the dining room, the whispers suddenly stop. He eyes between his parents, "What's going on?"

"You've better sit down," his dad suggests, and Chad goes to sit across from them. His parents look at each other, before he informs, "You are aware we follow your social media?"

Chad shrugs, "So?"

"We would like you to open up more to us," his mom says. "About Ben and everything that's happened with you two."

"Nothing happened," Chad comments, before his phone rings and he shakes his head at the caller id. "It's Ben."

He stares at it, and his mom inquires, "You're not going to answer?"

"If I answer," Chad slowly explains, "he will convince me to be friends again."

The ringtone ends, and his dad mentions, "In your video you said asked Ben to do things for you in return for what you did for him."

"I mostly just wanted to know he would do it."

"But you wouldn't have minded the attention," his dad assumes, "had he done it?" Chad doesn't speak, and his phone rings again. "Hand it here." He hands the phone to him, and he answers, "Ben. Chad can't speak right now." He nods, "I understand, but he can't hear it." His mouth remains open, before he gets the chance to speak again, "Goodbye, Ben."

Chad notices him mess with his phone, "What are you doing?"

He hands the phone back to him, "I've blocked him. Now, you can contact Ben on your terms. He can't call or text, until you're ready to hear from him."

"He still has my email," Chad points out.

"Which will allow you to test the waters at a time that's convenient for you," he counters, and Chad stays silent. "This relationship you have with him isn't healthy."

He quietly frustrates, "Why do you think I stopped it again?"

"Look." His parents make eye contact again, before his dad moves on, "We've talked, and we do agree that you need to get a girlfriend."

"Are you joking?" Chad disbelieves.

"You have looked for companionship where you shouldn't be."

"Where, exactly?" his eyebrows raise. "Ben? He's my best friend. We've never been apart, and now you want to plop some girl in his place?"

"Chad," he tries to reason.

"Do you know how hard it's going to be just not having him in my life?"

"Pumpkin," his mom frowns. "It won't be forever. It's just until he can move on and treat you as a proper friend should."

"This isn't about replacing him," his dad adds on. "This is about you. You've always been a very social person, and it doesn't surprise me that you would be looking for a bond."

"I don't want a girlfriend," he yells, before he whispers, "Not right now."

His dad nods, "You need time to get over Ben." and Chad eyes down. "We can give you that time, but I want you to be socializing."

"And if you don't have a girlfriend by November," his mom mentions, "we would like to host a ball on your birthday."

"A ball?" Chad frowns.

His parents hold hands, "It worked for us."

Chad questions, "But who would be coming?"

"It would be an open invitation to any single girl at your school," his dad informs.

"And any girl from our kingdom," she continues.

Chad meets their faces, "Could I invite Ben?"

His parents glance at each other, before his dad answers, "We'll have to see. Any royal will have the right to come, of course, but Ben…"

"Only time can tell," she finishes.

His dad comments, "Of course, we wouldn't want you to be put in a position, where you're allowed to invite him and he gets upset that you didn't."

"Yeah," Chad understands.

There's a pause, before he asks, "Do you have any other questions?"

Chad eyes from the table to them, "Am I going to Hell?"

His dad pauses, "How much have you done with Ben?"

"Nothing," Chad defends. "Just…" He shakes his head, "Please. Just tell me, at what point am I unsavable?"

His dad frowns, "No one is unsavable. Like I told you in the car, Jesus saved us all. All you have to do is be sorry for your mistake, and God will see you're sincere and forgive you."

"What if I'm not sorry?" Chad counters. "I mean, it's not like it felt bad."

When his dad fails to speak, his mom does, "Emotional bonds make intimate interaction feel better, but just because it feels good, doesn't make it right. Two men cannot build a family together. You couldn't have kids. Time would all but stop for you."

"Even if Ben were a girl," his dad supplies, "you two don't seem very compatible."

"You don't need to convince me," Chad angers. "I get it."

"And all you need to do to repent is to get it," he informs.

His mom comments, "If you're still conflicted, take confession when you attend church with Audrey tomorrow."

"Lutherans don't take confession," Chad points out.

"They can if they need to," his dad informs. "It's just more private in our church."

"Catholics should offer confession every Sunday, though," his mom says. "So, if you need a private conversation with a nonjudging ear, that's the place for it."

"I think it's less of a conversation and more of reassurance," his dad corrects, "but they're not allowed to tell the police anything. It's treated as a therapy practice."

"Which is also an option," his mom offers, "if you need more help."

"No," Chad quickly turns down. "I'll do the confession."

His dad smiles, "I'm proud of you, Chad. We're happy you could be honest with us."

* * *

**Posted**: 10/01/2019


	2. Forgive Me Father

**Forgive Me Father **

**(Sunday Morning- Saturday Afternoon, July 22****nd****\- 23****rd****)**

"Yes, Chad," the black-haired teacher looks up from the desk and smiles. "How may I help you?"

He hesitates, "I was wondering…"

"Wondering?" the teacher prompts.

Chad meets his brown eyes, "In the Bible it says homosexual behavior is a sin, but I saw some pamphlets my church had on it. They say it's the way God made those people, but why would God make people to sin? I mean, there has to be a reason. Right?"

"Chad," the teacher takes a moment. "Why don't you sit down?"

Chad complies, before he watches him go to shut the door, "What are you doing?"

Mr. Hawthorne sits back down at his desk, "If anyone knows I've spoken to you about this, the parents can complain to the administration about my employment here." Chad nods, and he questions, "What does your parents think about it?"

"I'm not really sure," Chad admits. "I tried talking to them, but they don't really bring a lot to the conversation." He glances down in thought, "What they say, it's not really an answer."

"Well, there is a biological reason, if that's what you're asking," he supplies.

"Really?" he almost smiles.

Mr. Hawthorne smiles in return, "The research is very limited. Most of it comes from inquiries of the people who attend those programs."

"Right," Chad frowns again. "The, uh, rehabilitation programs."

"At first, the information led to the idea that if a son was one of the youngest of a large family that they were more likely to be homosexual."

His eyes shift, "But that's not true."

"Now," the teacher continues, "we think that it's more linked to fertile women. If a woman is fertile, they're more likely to have more children. This takes the younger sons into account, while allowing for any of the exceptions."

"What about only childs?" Chad asks.

"Well," he explains, "protection during sex is a common practice. A woman could be fertile, while still only having had one child."

"So," Chad thinks, "God made gays, because there would be more children?"

"Men can have as many children, biologically, as they see fit," Mr. Hawthorne confirms. "In nature, some animals will have one male impregnate several females."

"Would that mean," Chad counters, "that it would be natural for a homosexual to have homosexual activity? That it's better somehow?"

Mr. Hawthorne nods, "The studies I mentioned before also found that homosexuals are more likely to take in children that aren't theirs compared to heterosexual couples." before he smiles. "And science has found that anal sex can reduce certain health risks involving the prostate. Of course, someone's wife could do that too, now, with technology."

Chad's frown deepens, "But God says it's wrong."

Mr. Hawthorne hesitates, "God contradicts Himself. That's why it's up to you and your family to infer what God expects. But me, personally?" He widens his eyes, "I would never condemn a student for acting on their biological motives."

"Chad," Audrey hisses, before he frowns at her. "Aren't you going?"

Chad notices the small line near the booth, and he stands, "Yeah."

When he moves into the line an elderly woman turns to grin at him, before he grins back. She asks, "Is this your first time?"

"Uh, yes," he nervously confirms.

"Just remember," she helps, "you start with creating a cross 'In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.' Tell him when your last confession was before asking him to bless you with forgiveness."

"Right," he recalls, before he takes a deep breath. She faces forward again, and he eyes down at the carpet before eyeing the stained-glass window of Mary Magdalene kissing Jesus's feet for forgiveness. She was a prostitute who renounced sin, once Jesus had proclaimed God forgave her. His hand is placed on her bowed head. Newer evidence affirms the idea that she became Jesus's wife, but he's not sure if Audrey's church believes that part or not. Last he checked, holy people aren't supposed to marry in Catholic tradition, but he can't remember why.

"You're next," a voice from behind him states, and Chad notices the large space between him and the booth. He takes a deep breath and moves inside, before he notices someone through the ornate divider.

"Take a seat, my son," the priest calmly comments.

Chad follows his instruction and motions a cross over his heart, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen." He takes a moment, "I have not confessed before."

"Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy."

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." He feels his heart race, "I have had sexual activity with other guys." He nods, and Chad continues, "I don't know why. It's just…"

"It's the demons getting to you," he proclaims, "but you can fight them."

"Demons?" Chad repeats.

"Satin's minions. He uses unhealthy desires to twist the human soul into something dark." He explains, "He doesn't want God's creation to survive, so he encourages humans to behave in such self-destructive ways."

Chad takes a moment, "My science teacher told me there was a biological reason."

"He must be a lost soul," Father assumes, and Chad feels anger rise in him. Had he known how evil Mr. Hawthorne is, he could have avoided this. "Sodemy is in no way natural. If you look in nature, you will see God made a male and female for all animals. This is so they may thrive and live on. It is so they have a companion with which they will not compete. Women are naturally subservient, so they need not fight with their husbands. Two men could not possibly live happily with one another."

Chad's mind moves to Ben, "What about men who are more… quiet?"

"Quietness does not make a man no longer a man," he counters. "A man will still have his opinions and command respect." Chad fails to speak, and the priest informs, "It's hard to fight demons, but with God in your heart, all things are possible. And all you have to do is to follow His word." Chad nods, and he questions, "My son, are you sorry for your sins?"

"Every time I sin," Chad tears up, "something bad happens. I want to choose good to be better, and I hope God can help me stay strong. I don't want to sin anymore. I want a good life, and I want to be happy. I want to follow the Lord."

He places a hand over the screen and onto Chad's head, "God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

After the hand his removed from his head, Chad breathes, "Amen."

"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good."

Chad wipes the tears from his face, "Thank you, Lord."

* * *

Chad moves the chicken alfredo around, and his father questions, "How did your confession go?"

He puts the fork down and faces him, "Are demons real?"

His parents look at each other, before his mom asks, "What kind of demons?"

"The priest said Satin uses demons to turn human souls into something evil."

His parents share another look, before his dad suggests, "Maybe you should talk to Pastor Michelson about this."

"Only if you're comfortable," his mom reassures.

Chad hesitates, "Would anyone else know?"

His dad pauses, "I think people are more likely to assume things from your video than to hear it straight from our pastor."

"Right," he recalls.

"So?" his mom prompts.

"Yeah," Chad decides. "I'd like a second opinion."

* * *

When they enter the backroom, Pastor Miklson questions, "Would you like your parents to be present?"

Chad eyes between the blond man and his parents, before he shakes his head. His dad says, "We'll just be outside if you need us."

After they leave, the pastor takes a seat in the armchair, and Chad sits across from him. He notices the bible on the coffee table, before the pastor says, "Your parents told me about the complicated relationship you and your friend have."

"We're not friends right now," Chad denies.

He nods, "They also mentioned that." and Chad carefully observes him. He sits on the edge of his seat, "Now, this church has always acknowledged that since the Bible is translated through man, that God's word is only has good as we understood it back then."

"But he did tell people to stone homosexuals," Chad puts forth.

"That's the old testament," he dismisses. "God thought he could wipe wickedness from the Earth when he chose Noah's family as the survivors of the human race; however, when mankind repopulated the Earth, wickedness still prevailed. God saw we are flawed, and that's why He created His son as the vessel so that He could come to Earth as Jesus Christ and save us from our sins. The teachings of Jesus tell us how to be kind to one another, despite of the sin we carry with us. God loves mankind, even though we're not perfect. And that's what He taught us."

Chad frowns, "What did Jesus say about homosexuals?"

"The only time Jesus mentions it is in reference to Genesis, where it's said marriage is between man and a woman." The pastor smiles, "But the Bible was not written in English or French. Marriage could merely mean 'union', where only a union between a man and a woman can create a family. A union between two men would not create children."

Chad nods, "Okay."

"The flaw of translation was acknowledged by scholars of the new testament, when they were debating which sexual crimes were mentioned. Eventually, they translated it as crimes referring to pedophilia and prostitution, but others mistranslate it as references to homosexual sex. It's my opinion that the same mistranslation may have been assumed for the passage referring to the stoning of homosexuals."

"So, God doesn't want me dead?" he tears up, a small smile pressing his lips.

"No," Pastor Michelson answers. "He has accepted it's a biological affliction people can struggle with. And there's proof of this in the Bible." He pauses, "There's a passage, where there is a man gathering water from the community well. This was seen as a woman's role at the time. The man is not condemned for this action. Jesus accepts him as he is."

"I don't get it," Chad comments. "How is a man getting water supposed to relate to homosexuality?"

"It's not a direct correlation," he accepts, "but back then a man gathering water could be compared to if a man were to now wear makeup. It's something only women did, especially in the context of a community."

"I don't wear makeup," he points out.

"No. I'm not comparing this to you," the pastor replies, before he pauses. "There are, however, people who would rather live as a woman than a man, despite the life God has chosen for them. If Jesus was not willing to condemn someone for that, I don't think God would condemn you—or anyone—for having homosexual interests."

"There's guys who want to be girls?" Chad's face scrunches.

"There are some," he confirms. "Sadly, most of them can't live with themselves."

"I didn't think God made mistakes," Chad comments.

"He doesn't," the pastor confirms. "He makes these decisions for a reason. For what reason, we just can't know."

"Maybe it's to be more accepting of each other," he speculates.

His brown eyes meet him, "My point is, whether you decide to fight these urges or move with them, you will not go to Hell for them."

Chad slowly opens his mouth, "I have a hard time connecting with girls."

"May I ask you," he inquires, "have you had sexual encounters with anyone other than your friend?"

He takes a moment, "I have. I've been with girls a little too, but… I have an easier time connecting to guys outside of sex."

"And a relationship shouldn't be built on the foundation of sex," he acknowledges.

Chad shakes his head, "What am I supposed to do? When my parents met, they knew they were meant for each other instantly, and they think I'll be able to do the same thing."

The pastor nods, "That's because they found true love." before he takes two halves of a heart-shaped stone from the table. "True love is rare, but the people who have it can find it easily." He places the pieces close to each other, and they instantly move together. "Like a magnet, they're able to find each other and connect." He tries pulling the pieces apart, but it takes effort, "It's not as easy to break them apart." The stones are set back onto the table, and the pastor smiles, "There's someone for everyone. You might not find your true love right away or ever, but that doesn't mean you can't find someone who's compatible." He takes two wood pieces and puts them together. They don't find each other like the magnets did, but they do fit. Chad moves his head to see the hole in the shape's center. "It's not perfect, but it works."


	3. Predator

**Predator **

**(Tuesday Morning, July 23****rd****)**

Snakes are very dangerous creatures. You see, they camouflage to their natural environment, so they can follow their prey without being seen. They slowly move their way up, sliding by any obstacles they may have. Going back-and-forth, their skin moves along the hard surface. They gradually move faster, and they start to make it closer. There's the attack, the prey gasps, and then it's released. Chad sits up with wide eyes, bringing a hand to his heart as he catches his breath. He narrows his eyes at the snake documentary on tv, grabs the remote, and throws it at the stand. He takes a deep breath, stands from the bed, and walks over to it. He grits his teeth, "Turn the fuck off." before he presses the button manually and eyes the broken remote on the floor. He takes another breath, wipes something that may or may not be sweat from his upper lip, and then puts the battery and covering back into the remote. Out of all the things he had to fall asleep to, it was a snake documentary.

He shakes his head, goes to put the remote back onto his nightstand, and then sits back onto the bed. The alarm clock says it's only four in the morning. He rubs his eyes, pulls open the drawer to take out his prescription, and then pops out two Roxanol tablets with the straw. He takes a minute to crush the pills with the bottle, plugs one side of his nose, and then snorts the powder through the other. He starts to cough and takes a sip of water, before he finishes taking the morphine. He lets out a long breath, before he lays on the bed and stares up at the spinning fan. "Snakes are very dangerous creatures," he repeats. "They camouflage with their environment, so their prey will not know they're a predator." His thoughts slow, his breathing slows, and his eyes flutter shut, until there's a banging on the door.

Chad eyes the alarm clock, as the morning light flows over his nightstand. There's another knock, "Hey, Chad. It's William and Brendan. Open up."

"I'm not alive," Chad calls out.

"Huh. Really?" Brendan counters. "I guess we should tell your parents then."

Chad sees his prescription on the nightstand and chucks the bottle inside the drawer, before he gets up and staggers to the door. He cracks it open and leans onto the wall, "You realize it's summer, right?" He points two fingers at William, "And what the fuck are you still doing up? Aren't you cursed to fall asleep at noon or something?"

"Good point," Brendan checks his watch. "It is nine right now."

"Which means I still have a couple hours to kill," he smiles.

"One less hour after I shower," Chad comments.

"Do you have meat thawed in the kitchen?" William asks.

"Probably," Chad irritably answers. "Help yourself."

"I think I will," he grins, before he walks down the hall. Brendan rolls his eyes and shakes his head before following him. Chad shuts the door and heads back over to his bed. He takes the bottle back out of his nightstand, takes one tablet out, and crushes it. He takes it in and gathers new clothes, before he heads for the shower.

* * *

Brendan watches in disgust, as the blond guy snacks on a raw piece of bacon while cooking the rest, "You're going to get sick."

"I haven't yet," he comments, before he places the first batch on bacon on a plate. "Here. Have some."

The brown-haired guy sighs, before he takes the plate from the counter and leans against the fridge. He bites into a piece, "So, you've eaten raw bacon before?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't it taste gross, though?" he questions.

He finishes placing the second batch onto the pan and bites into a new raw piece, "It's a lot sweeter. It's actually better."

"Really?" Brendan doubts.

"Maybe a little chewy," he confesses, "but it definitely tastes better."

He notices the two raw pieces left in the package, "Let me try."

William laughs, "You want to try it?"

"If it's so good," he challenges.

William shuts his eyes and shakes his head, before he pulls a raw piece from the package and hands it to him, "Here." He watches intently, as Brendan slowly bites it and makes a face.

"It tastes like salt," he complains.

"Just eat it," William says, before he takes a bite of his own.

He tries to bite harder, but it's still not tearing off. He stops, "I can't chew through it."

"What are you talking about?" he gives a look. "Just bite into it and pull."

Brendan tries again, but it takes a good minute to stretch the bacon enough to tear it away. He feels the strings as he moves the flesh in his mouth, and he gags before moving to the trash to spit it out, "I think I'm going to barf."

William watches him toss the piece in the trash, "It's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" he emphasizes. "You can't even chew it." William bites into his own piece again to prove a point, and Brendan gapes at him, "You're disgusting."

He shrugs, "To me, it just sounds like you need a dentist."

"How the hell are you eating that?"

"Easy." He grins, "My teeth work."

"That's it?" Brendan steps forward, "Your teeth just work?"

William shuts the stove off, before he faces him, "What are you doing?"

"Show me," he takes another step.

He frowns, "Show you what?"

"Your teeth," he asserts. "Show me."

He shakes his head, and Brendan moves a hand towards his mouth. William turns his head into his shoulder, as he moves to pan to the back burner; however, the hand follows him, and he swats it away, "Quit it."

"I'll quit when you show me," he persists, and William grips his wrist.

He widens his eyes, "And what would that prove? We're supposed to be friends." before he lets go. "It shouldn't matter if I'm a carnivore or just some sick fuck who eats raw meat, and Germans will eat raw hamburger, so why are you singling me out?"

Brendan quietly comments, "You're right, but I still want to see." William slightly nods, before he starts to open his mouth wide. "Wow," he whispers, as he sees the canines and first premolars are longer than the front teeth, and although the teeth further down become smaller, they're still sharp. He moves his thumb to a top molar. The front is shorter than the back, and there's a curving indent between the sharp corners. The bottom has the opposite, where the front is taller than the back. He takes his thumb away, "Do you have an overbite?" William shuts his mouth and smiles, and Brendan observes how the front teeth stack on top of each other, the top canines cover the bottom ones, and the back teeth fit into each other. "That's weird."

"What do you mean?" William questions.

"Well, it looks like your teeth are straight," he explains, "but the back still overlap."

He takes a moment, "What do your teeth look like?"

"Mine?" Brendan inquires. "Mine are normal."

"What does normal look like?"

"What do normal teeth look like?" he disbelieves.

"Yeah."

He hesitates, "Do you want to see mine?"

"Can I?"

"Uh, sure." Brendan opens his mouth, and William sees the small canines next to the front teeth. The premolars are about the same size, and the back teeth are relatively flat, aside from the small bumps on the corners. He reaches forward, Brendan flinches, and after he steadies, William moves a finger to the molar. The bumpy corners aren't as sharp as he thought they should be. He takes his hand away, "How can you tear anything apart with those?"

"Well, the back teeth aren't meant for tearing," he slowly answers. "They're meant for crushing. Our saliva helps to break most foods down."

"But not meat," William points out.

"No," Brendan evenly responds. "But most meat we buy is processed to be chewed easier. And harder meats like steak, that's why we use knives."

William thinks, "I don't use a knife when I eat steak."

He shrugs, "Well, that's because you don't need to." and then William nods in agreement. "What are you?" He looks at him but remains quiet. "I mean, you have to be something, right? Do you know?"

William hesitates, "I'm a vampire."

Brendan stares at him, "What does that mean?"

He shakes his head, "It doesn't mean anything."

"It's a medical condition, isn't it? Caused by a virus?" he asks.

"So?"

"So, what does that mean for you?" He stays silent, and Brendan sighs, "If I'm your friend, don't you think I should know how this affects you?" He continues, "The sun. Is there any truth to that?"

"I'm light and heat sensitive," William frowns. "It can make me feel weak and tired."

"What else?" Brendan insists.

He shakes his head, "As far as disadvantages go, that's the big one."

He takes a moment, "Do you drink blood?"

William nods, "Sometimes."

"Human?" he asks.

"Well, that's what I meant by sometimes." He explains, "I don't count the stuff I get from the butcher, because anyone will have that."

Brendan looks over him, "How often is sometimes?"

He shakes his head, "Just sometimes, when it's necessary." before he takes the last raw piece. "Anyway. You don't need to worry. I can take care of myself."

Brendan starts on his cooked bacon, "You sure about that?"

William's frown deepens, "You have nothing to worry about."

"Hey," Chad smiles, as he enters the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Brendan denies.

Chad walks over to the stove, "Is this for me?"

"Leave me a couple pieces," William commands, and Chad smiles.

He points to the raw piece, "You don't like cooked meat."

Brendan's brows raise, "Wow. You took that a lot better than I did."

"Well, it means there's more for me," Chad reasons, before he finds a plate to place the second batch of bacon.

William steals two from the pan and holds it up to him, "I haven't eaten since one A.M. These are mine."

"Fine. Whatever," Chad moves on, before he takes a piece from his plate. "Anyway, how about after breakfast, we head to the beach?"

Brendan glances at William, "What's the weather like?"

"Seventy degrees and sunny," Chad sings, "so who's up for some beach ball?"

"Sounds like fun," William agrees.

Brendan gives him a look, "Hold on." before he turns to Chad. "What about sunburn?"

Chad laughs, "We're only going to be out for a couple hours."

"And after a couple games," William unsurely says, "we could just chill in the shade, couldn't we?"

"On such a nice day?" Chad grins. "No way." He notices them frown, "Okay. If you two have such thin skin, then I have sunscreen. That sound good?"

Brendan looks at William, who tries to smile, "Let's see it."

"Right now?" Chad questions.

He slaps his hands clean, "I'm done."

"Okay, then." Chad walks to the kitchen door with his plate, "Come on." They follow him down the hall and up the stairs, until they make it to his bedroom. He guides them into his bathroom and opens the medicine cabinet, "Here. Broad-spectrum thirty."

Brendan takes it, "And it works?"

"It will work and still give you a tan," Chad guarantees.

"Sounds too good to be true," he concerns.

William snatches the bottle, "Let's just put it on." before he squirts out a blob and starts to apply it with a frown.

* * *

The phone rings, and when William reaches into his pocket, the beach ball bounces off of him. "Come on," Chad complains.

"It's my dad," William informs, before he answers it. "Hello?" They watch him explain, "I'm hanging out with Chad and Brendan." He sighs, "Yes, I'm being careful." A moment passes, "Yeah. I'll be home soon."

When William puts the phone back into his pocket, Brendan asks, "Do you have to go?"

He steps towards him, "Not yet." but Brendan notices the slowed movement.

"Awesome," Chad smiles. "You can be on my team this time."

Brendan sternly looks at him, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Chad's eyebrows raise, "Sure." and Brendan walks under the net to meet him.

He turns Chad away from William, "We should stop."

"Stop?" he makes a face. "Why?"

"He looks sick."

Chad looks at William, "He looks fine."

"It's getting late," he points out.

"It's eleven," Chad counters.

"And at noon he's going to fall asleep," Brendan furiously whispers. "Do you really want to drag him across town when that happens?"

"You know I was joking when I said he was cursed," Chad seriously responds.

"He's still going to fall asleep," Brendan stresses.

"Look." He reasons, "If William says he can stay up a couple more hours, then he will."

"You look," Brendan nods to him. "He's exhausted."

Chad eyes over William and sighs, "Okay." before he walks back towards him. "Hey. Why don't you sit this one out and referee for us?"

"Sure," William agrees, before he goes to sit in the chair at the end of the net.

Chad watches him lay back and relax, before he faces Brendan, "New game."

After a few rounds Brendan glances at William, "Is he asleep?"

Chad checks his watch, "It's only eleven thirty."

"His sunglasses are falling off."

He notices it and takes a few steps, "William? You still with us?"

When he fails to answer, Brendan strides over to him, "William?" He shakes him, "William. Wake up." William groans, and he just barely moves. "Hey, William. Get up. We need to get you home."

Chad slowly kneels next to him, "Brendan."

"What?" he yells at him.

Chad frowns, "He's not responding." and he watches as Chad lifts William's arm and lets it fall. "Feel his skin."

Brendan touches the exposed arm, "He's burning up."

"His pale ass must have absorbed the heat faster than us," Chad irritably responds, "but the sunscreen should have helped."

"Then what happened?" Brendan worries.

Chad takes his fingers from William's wrist, "His pulse is weak. It could be heat stroke." before he notices the bottle and picks it up. "Except he had water, so that's not the problem."

Brendan takes a deep breath, "He's a vampire."

Chad widens his eyes at him, "What did you just say?"

"He's a vampire," Brendan repeats.

"And you're just telling me this now?" he frustrates.

"I just found out today," he panics.

Chad sees the tears in his eyes, "Okay. Okay." before he looks back at William. "So, we find him some shade, right?"

"It's midday."

Chad looks around, "The shack. Come on. Help me get him up." Brendan complies, and they hold his arms over their shoulders as they stagger towards the shop. "Let us in."

The girl opens the door, "What happened?"

Chad sits him against the counter, "He won't wake up."

"Do you need me to call ES?" she offers.

"No," Chad's eyes widen, before he turns to Brendan. "We call his parents, right?"

"I don't know," he whispers.

"We need his phone," Chad searches his pockets, before he finds it.

"So, we're calling his parents?" Brendan asks.

"We have to do something," Chad counters, before he finds the number and calls. It rings, and then rings again. He sighs, "His mom isn't answering."

"She's the afternoon anchor," he reminds him. "She's probably getting ready for work."

"I'll try his dad," Chad decides.

"What do we do if he doesn't?"

"Shut up," Chad yells, before he sighs at the voice on the other line. "Mr. Florian? It's Chad Charming. Something's wrong with William."

"What happened?" he questions.

"I don't know. We're at the beach," he explains. "His skin's really hot, and he's not responding to us."

"He's sensitive to heat. It probably knocked him out," he informs. "Get him in the shade and cool him down."

Chad eyes up at the girl and points at the fridge, "Get me a water." He questions, "What else?" before the girl hands him the bottle and he places it against William's forehead.

"You're at the Charmington beach, right?"

"Yes," Chad confirms.

"I'll be there shortly," he reassures. "Just cool him down."

The call ends, and Chad moves the bottle to William's neck, "You idiot. If you felt sick, why didn't you tell us?"

"I told you he looked sick," Brendan points out.

"Shut up," Chad's brows furrow, before he feels his nose drip and places his free hand to it. "Can I get a napkin?" The girl silently hands him one, he wipes his nose clean, and he thanks her, "I'll pay for the water."

"I knew you would," she comments, before she looks at William. "How is he?"

Chad feels his skin and shakes his head, "Still warm."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 11/09/2019


	4. Dangerous

**Dangerous **

**(Tuesday Evening – Wednesday Night, July 23****rd****\- 24****th****)**

When William opens his eyes, he sees the brown-haired man sitting next to him, "Dad?"

"How do you feel?"

He tries to sit up and groans, "It hurts."

"Use the remote," his dad suggests.

William picks the remote up from the stand, before he adjusts the bed's settings to sit up and meet his dad's blue eyes, "I'm sorry I did this again."

"You're just trying to fit in."

"But you have to be upset," he assumes.

He takes a moment, "I'm sad that you're hurt and that you keep hurting yourself."

"I'm not trying to hurt myself."

He hears the weakness in his voice, "You need to eat. Your mom made stew, if you want me to get some."

William lets out a breath and shuts his eyes, "I'm too tired." before he opens them and watches his dad roll up his sleeve. "No. You don't need to."

"A one-week versus two-week recovery?" he points out. "I know it helps, William."

His father rests his wrist in his hands, and he stares down at it, "You don't think I'm doing this on purpose, do you?"

"I didn't." He inquires, "Do you?"

"I'd like to prove I'm not." William lets go of his wrist, "I'm not doing it this time."

"You know, you don't have to prove anything to me."

"I know," he nods. "I want to prove it to myself."

* * *

When Chad enters the room, he looks at William in surprise, "Whoa. You got torched."

He tiredly looks at him, "Thanks."

"Look," Chad goes to sit in the chair next to the bed. "I brought chess."

"You want to play chess?" he frowns.

"You like chess," he unsurely answers.

William shuts his eyes, "I'm tired."

Chad takes a minute, "It's nighttime." before he hears his stomach grumble. He glances from the sipped stew to him, "Not hungry?"

He notices the uncomfortableness in his voice, "I'm not dangerous."

"No, of course not." Chad smiles, "If you try to bite me, then I can just grab your arm and you'd be in excruciating pain."

William narrows his eyes, "You're not as funny as you think you are."

Chad observes him, "Seriously, though. You had to force yourself to stay with us? Is being a vampire really that bad? You couldn't tell me?"

"You spent all this time with Audrey," his head lowers. "I thought you might think…"

Chad takes a breath, "You are aware I only started to date Audrey, so Ben would break up with her, right?"

"And then you continued dating her," William reminds him. "And you're still friends… or whatever with her." He pauses, "Tell me you don't think I'm a demon or some shit."

He sighs, "Look. Maybe I would have been a little afraid if you told me sooner, but we've been friends since we started at Auradon Prep. Nothing could change that." William glances down, and Chad continues, "I mean, I assume you were born like this."

"Yeah," he whispers. "I inherited the virus from my mother."

"So, it's not like you chose to be a blood sucker," Chad concludes, and then William starts to whimper. Chad's jaw drops, and he whispers, "What did I say?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing." as he tries to dry his burned face. "Just tired is all."

"It seems like more than that," Chad concerns.

"Sorry. I—" He gulps, "Can you go, please?"

"Of course." He rises from the chair, "I'll catch you later." and he keeps his sights on William as he heads to the door.

When he leaves, William starts to sob. He holds his arms and shakes, as the overwhelming dread and anxiety runs through him. He hears the door creek open, and his dad steadily steps towards him, "William?" He makes his way to the bed and places a hand on it, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he trembles. His dad slowly sits and carefully observes, before William looks up at him. "Could—Can I—" He lets out a breath, shuts his eyes, and lowers his head, before his dad starts to roll up his sleeve and he tilts his head towards him.

He moves his wrist in front of him, "It's okay."

William sadly looks at him, before he eyes down at his wrist and nervously takes it. He takes a deep breath, steadily bites into it, and sighs as the warm liquid flows into his mouth. All the dread that had haunted him dissipates, and he calms. All is right. Nothing could be wrong.


	5. Tolerance

\- So, I'm not an expert on morphine or how the doses between morphine and other variants translate from one another. Like, I don't know if a smaller amount of oxycodone can kill someone as easily as a higher amount of morphine or if it's just stronger and manages not to kill until the higher dose as well. I did my best to try to research it, but if someone knows anything more or if I've made dosing mistakes, then please let me know. It might not fix anything for the fic, but it would still be great to know for future reference.

* * *

**Tolerance **

**(Thursday Afternoon, July 25****th****)**

"Chad." The blond doctor turns towards him, "How can I help you today?"

"I need a stronger prescription," he insists.

"Hold on," he puts up a hand. "Tell me what your problem is."

"The problem is the withdrawal symptoms are starting only three frickin' hours after I take it," he stresses. "I have to wake up in the middle of the night for a second fix." He places a hand to his head, "I can't be doing this."

"I told you, you would grow a tolerance," he reminds him.

"Can you help me?" he persists.

The doctor nods, "There is something I can do, but if I change your prescription, I have to insist upon a few things."

"Of course," Chad scoots to the edge of his seat.

"Oxycodone is twice as strong as morphine," he informs. "If I prescribe you a slow release version, you should be able to go six hours between doses."

"What's the catch?" he questions.

He pulls the small bin out from under the desk, and Chad sighs at the bloody tissue. "The slow-release won't work if you're crushing it."

Chad frowns, "I crush it, because it works faster. I mostly take it after withdrawal has already started."

"At that point it's already too late," His brown eyes meet him, "Waiting until withdrawal starts can cause people to take more than what's necessary."

"Then, how the fuck am I supposed to know when to take it?"

"Well, for people who are suffering from pain outside of withdrawal," he addresses, "they're only supposed to take a six, eight, twelve, or twenty-four-hour dose. Some people have smaller doses, and then they take it every two or four hours as needed along with their standard dosing time."

He shakes his head, "Well, it's not like my ankle's still fractured, so what the fuck do you propose for me to do?"

"Take it as instructed," he evenly answers. "No crushing, no double-doses, and make sure you take it at the times you're supposed to." He nods, "And, when you're ready, we can discuss how to wean you off of it."

Chad takes a moment, "What if I can't?" He breathes, "What if I grow a tolerance to this too, and I can't wean off it?"

"So long as you take it as instructed, it should take a while for your tolerance to grow," he reassures. "And to ensure you don't build a tolerance, you won't be getting refills. You will need to meet with me each time you run out, before you can get more."

"School is going to be starting in a month," Chad irritably reminds him. "I'm not going to have time for that shit."

"You will, if your prescription lasts you the entire month, as it should." Chad silences, and he continues, "Now, I need to know, how often have you been taking it?"

Chad eyes down, "I don't know." before he murmurs. "One every three to five hours and two before bed."

"You said that you wake up to take it too," he mentions.

"And if that happens, I take two more."

"So, you're taking around seventy milligrams a day," he concludes.

"I mean, it's not that bad," Chad backtracks. "If I'm spending time with other people, I can't take another dose until I get back home."

"You don't take it with you."

Chad's brows furrow. It wasn't a question, "Are you judging me?"

"No." He evenly answers, "I'd just like to know, what's with the secrecy?"

"You know what's with the secrecy," Chad sternly eyes him. "I'm not injured anymore. If people see me taking this, they'll think I'm a drug addict."

"Are you?" Dr. Hoffman asks.

"Hell no." Chad defends, "I don't use it to get high."

"Do you think you can stop, then?" he inquires.

"I want to," Chad confirms. "I mean, eventually."

He nods, "Okay, then. I will write you a new prescription, but it's very important you take it as prescribed. When you see me next month, we can discuss how to get you off it."

"Okay." Chad moves on, "Is that it?"

"No." He emphasizes, "You should know that if you do grow a tolerance to this new prescription, the strongest doses someone can take is the equivalent of a hundred or two hundred milligrams; however, those are intended as twelve and twenty-four hour doses. If you get to the point where you need a dose like that and you don't use it as prescribed, you will overdose. Do you understand?"

"So, don't take more than two hundred milligrams a day," Chad concludes.

"No, Chad," he frowns. "I'm saying you need to stop, while you still can."

"I'll cut down next month," he promises.

"I want you to track how often you're taking it in a journal, so that when you need a refill, we can look at any patterns you might have formed."

"Patterns?" he questions.

"Like double-dosing before bed," he answers. "That being said, if you do crush one at some point, I'd like you to right that down too."

"You said if I crush them, the slow-release might not work," Chad counters.

Dr. Hoffman nods, "But if you start going through withdrawals, you might feel compelled to get the quick fix." Chad doesn't speak, and he comments, "I really hope you can get over this Chad. I know this started, because you wanted to keep your spot in tourney. I would hate to think you lost your chance at playing competitively, just because you couldn't kick this."

"I have two years before I can play competitively," Chad informs.

"Perhaps," he agrees, "but you don't have two years to get better."

"No. I know," Chad hurries. "I'm just saying… it won't be a problem."

Dr. Hoffman hands him three pamphlets, "Here."

"I already have these," he complains.

"I'm re quired to give them to you again," he explains. "I highly recommend that you don't throw them away this time."

"If I keep them, someone could see them," he points out.

"You could put them with your prescription."

"What if someone finds it?" his brows furrow.

"What if someone finds your prescription?" he evenly counters.

"If someone finds my prescription, I can just say it's for allergies," Chad disbelieves. "No one reads shit that small, but if I have pamphlets with these huge titles about how to manage pain or how addictive it is, then they'll know I'm taking it for sure."

"Do what you will with it," the doctor finalizes. "If you throw it away and have questions, just make sure to reach out to me."

* * *

"Chad. May we speak for a moment?"

Chad walks up to the black-haired teacher's desk, "What's up?"

His brown eyes scan him, "You've seemed distracted."

He shrugs, "I've had stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" he questions.

"The kind of stuff," Chad pauses, "that has nothing to do with school."

After Chad smiles, he smiles in return, "I know you're using."

Chad's expression slowly drops, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm a science teacher, Chad," he reminds him. "There's little point in denying it."

"My ankle's been hurting," his eyes widen. "I have a prescription."

"I hope it's nothing serious," he concerns.

"It's not," he reassures. "I've just been pushing myself."

"Maybe you should relax a little," he suggests.

"I will," Chad nods, "after scouting's done."

"Alright, then."

"I'm going now," he informs.

"Sounds good." He turns to leave. "Oh. And Chad." He turns back to him, and the professor smiles, "If you do start feeling down, feel free to tell me. I know how to keep a secret." Chad cautiously looks over him, before his eyes crack open.

He sighs, opens the drawer to grab his new prescription, and then stares at the bottle. He's not allowed to double-dose or crush, and it's too early to take another one. He sets it back into the drawer and pushes it shut. It's fine. He'll just wake up early. He moves from his bed to his desk, and he opens his laptop. He refreshes his email, and he frowns at the new one from Mr. Hawthorne. "A reading list?" Chad shakes his head, "You can't just assume I'll be taking your classes, dummkopf." He deletes the email, before he clicks on the one below. It's a notification about a private message he'd received on his streaming platform. He clicks the link, and he's redirected to a new tab.

_Christian92: Sorry to hear about your breakup. Maybe you'd like to discuss it over coffee or something?_

Is this a guy or a girl? It's probably a girl. Even after his breakup video about some mysterious guy, girls have been leaving him comments left and right. This person's is better, though. It wasn't about how hot he was or how come he'd fool around with some guy when he could have her. She seemed genuinely concerned about how hurt he's been and interested in getting to know him. Chad murmurs, "I guess I could meet her at the smoothie shop." After all, Audrey had suggested that if he starts dating, then maybe he could get over Ben. He clicks on the message box and types out his response. Whatever happened, it couldn't hurt, no more than he already feels, anyway.


	6. Christian

**Christian **

**(Friday Evening, July 26****th****)**

Chad looks over the menu, "I'd like the king protein shake, a scooby snack energy drink, and a campfire latte." before he hears his phone and pulls it out.

_Christian92: Be there in ten_.

Chad pays for the three drinks and takes them to a table outside. He sits down, checks the time on his phone, and goes to William's texts. _Chad: How are you?_ He stares at the messages for a few minutes, until he glances at the time. It's probably too early for him to be awake, and this Christian girl should be here any moment. Chad puts his phone away and looks around, until his eyes widen at the guy exit the black car.

When the black-haired man sits across from him, Chad's jaw drops as his heart races, "Mr. Hawthorne?"

His brown eyes meet him, "Is there something wrong, Chad?"

"You're Christian92," he unsteadily says.

"I am," he confirms.

"You fooled me," Chad whispers.

He rests his arms on the table, "What do you mean, I fooled you?"

"You reached out to me with a fake name so that I would meet you."

The science teacher smiles, "I've had that email for ten years, Chad. It's a combination of my first name and the year I was born. There's nothing fake about it." Chad looks around at the surrounding people, and he comments, "We're just talking. There's no reason to be nervous."

"If your name's Christian, then where did Hawthorne come from?" he accuses.

"It's a pseudonym I used to publish my research papers," he explains. "I didn't think that the science journal would take the name Christian quite as seriously."

"And how did you get Hawthorne?" he questions again.

"The Hawthorne Effect," he answers. "The theory that people act differently when they're being watched."

"Sounds like you," Chad opinionates.

"It's not just me. It's everyone." He counters, "It's you, the things you keep hidden from others and the excuses you make to fit in. It's just human nature."

"You're a monster," Chad asserts.

"A monster, Chad?" he disbelieves. "That's taking it a little far, don't you think? I mean, it's not like you would call Ben a monster, would you?"

"Ben is nothing like you," he defends.

"The way I see it," he calmly comments, "there is nothing I've done that your good friend Ben hasn't. And isn't the whole point of why we're here to discuss just how imperfect he is?" Chad doesn't speak, and he points to the drinks, "Are you planning to drink all those?"

Chad moves one towards him, "You wanted a coffee."

He takes it, "How considerate of you."

"You could have told me it was you," he points out.

"Would you have come?"

"Of course, not," he angrily answers. "You—"

"I what?" he interrupts.

"You know what you did," he counters.

"I was just trying to help," he evenly explains.

"You call that help?" His voice raises, "I was paralyzed, and you—"

"I did nothing wrong." Chad's eyes widen, as they start to water. "Clearly, I was being of service to you or else you would have told me to stop." Chad keeps quiet, and he continues, "Anyhow, I messaged you, because I wanted to help you through this hard time."

"You wanted to help yourself," Chad stresses.

"But my message came off as sincere," he counters, "or else you wouldn't have met with me. Can we agree on that?"

"You stalked my social media so that you could wait for this moment," he accuses.

"You're a young, talented royal," Mr. Hawthorne evenly replies. "If I didn't follow your social media, I may be the only one." Chad eyes over him, and he continues, "Now, why don't we talk about your troubles with Ben?"

He shakes his head with wide eyes, "I'm not talking about Ben with you."

"Do you have anyone else you can have an honest conversation with about him?"

"A couple," he unsurely nods.

"Just as I thought: you're afraid they will judge you." He takes a sip from his coffee, "There is no secrets between us. If you want to speak openly, now is the time."

"I know what you are," he persists.

The teacher sighs, "I'm growing tired of this, Chad."

His expression falls, "What do you mean?"

He meets his eyes, "You're trying to turn my intentions into something malicious, because you cannot accept your own."

He shakes his head, "I don't understand."

"I helped you this last year with things you didn't feel comfortable sharing with those closest to you," he explains. "I believe that by sharing that personal information with me, you have developed inappropriate feelings that you can't comprehend."

"That's insane."

"It wouldn't be a problem if you could accept it and move on," he continues. "However, because you don't want to accept you feel this way, you have turned me into some monster with ill intent. That reality is easier for you."

"I hate you." Chad blinks, and he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

"Think about it," Mr. Hawthorne frowns. "I'm happily married with three children, so why would I take steps that would ruin my entire life?" Chad stares, and he concludes, "I would never hurt you, Chad. Everything I've done, it's so you wouldn't hurt yourself."

"I have to go," he blankly answers.

He nods, "You have my number. If you need to talk, I'm available." Chad stands from the table, and he sips his coffee, "See you in class."

Chad faces him, "I'm not taking any of your fucking classes, so you can stop sending me frickin' emails."

"How interesting." He informs, "Fairy Godmother sent out the class lists last week, and you appeared to be in my biology class."

"It's a mistake," Chad dismisses.

"There's no mistakes." He lifts Chad's drinks, "Here. You don't want to forget these." Chad takes a step back, eyes wide, before he twists around and crosses the street; however, when he steps into the street, there's a long honk, and Chad stares at the driver in the white car inches from him. "Be careful." Chad looks back at the black-haired man, takes a step back, and then runs to the other side of the street. He's still staring at him. Chad moves into the alley, walks until he reaches the next road, and then enters the closest shop. He pulls out his phone, breathing heavily, as he waits for her to answer, "Hey. Audrey. What's up?"

"You sound like Hell," she notices.

"Oh, yeah." He thinks, "Hey. Can you pick me up?"

"Rehearsal ends in an hour," she informs.

"Yeah." Chad shakes his head, "That's completely fine." before he smiles at the shop owner with a nod.

"Where are you?" she sighs.

"Um." He can't find a name, "The sandwich shop."

He can almost hear her roll her eyes, "Can you keep yourself busy for a couple hours?"

"Totally," he relaxes, eyeing out the windows. What if he follows him? Chad notices a nook in the wall, and he scoots to the inner part of the bench. "I love you, Audrey." There's no response. "Audrey?" He takes the phone from his hear, and the screen is black.

* * *

"You're quiet," Audrey notices.

"Thank you for driving me home," he murmurs.

"Thank you for the coffee." She takes a drink, "Want to tell me what happened?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing."

"So, you're not upset about Ben's lame interview?" she inquires.

"I mean, it was pretty lame," Chad admits, "but no."

"Because, you seem upset," she says again.

"I was already upset," his voice raises. "No amount of apologies could ever make up for how used he made me feel." He shakes his head and quiets, "I'm sorry for making you drive all this way."

"It's fine," she reassures. "But you are making me late for dinner."

"You can join us," he suggests.

"I think I will." A minute passes, and she comments, "You know, Ruby's still dating that VK Jay." She glances at him, "He tried killing Ben. I know you have something to say."

"How the hell can she still trust him?" he fumes. "Oh, wait. Don't tell me. She thinks she can change him."

"Actually, no," Audrey counters. "Ruby doesn't want to change him. She thinks that if he's not emotionally involved with her, then that means the relationship will last longer. It means he needs her, and the moment something goes wrong, he won't feel the need to get all defensive about how much he loves her and would never betray that."

"So, she expects something to go wrong," Chad assumes.

"She thinks they can play the honesty game," she corrects.

"Do you think that could work?" he unsurely inquires.

"Don't get me wrong, Ruby does have emotions," Audrey answers, "but she listens to her head a lot more. If anyone can reason with a sociopath, it's her." She stops the car, "I just worry how she will react when her plan completely falls apart."

* * *

\- **Post**: 11/18/2019


	7. Shadows

**Shadows **

**(Saturday Afternoon, July 27****th****)**

"They can't even show up to their own event," Queen Leah complains.

"They're just not morning people," Charming defends, "but they'll be here."

Audrey crosses her arms, "I don't care what time they like to wake up. There's no reason why Aziz should have made it here before they did."

Chad notices Aziz, Carlos, and the sultan sit at their assigned table, before he sees Ben get out of the black car, "There."

Audrey notices Mal walk Ben to the table, "I thought they broke up."

"They did," Chad confirms.

Ben bumps into a chair, and Aurora questions, "Is something wrong?"

Charming watches Mal pull out a chair for Ben, "He has day blindness."

"Where's his sunglasses?" Audrey questions.

"He's not allowed to wear them in public," Chad answers. "Because of the rumors about his family, they like to make him seem extra normal."

"But even I have sunglasses today," Audrey points out. "So, why can't he?"

"His father will break them," Chad frowns.

Charming notices Ben tip over a glass of water, "Not today." before he searches his satchel. "I still keep a pair on hand for him."

"And what's stopping him from breaking this pair?" Chad counters.

He frowns, "Then I turn him in to ES."

King Florian unsurely comments, "Isn't that a little extreme?"

Charming sternly eyes him, "You don't know Ben like I do. His parents have no right to be his parents after all the neglect they've put him through. And I don't care that Adam had the country to think of or that Belle was depressed, they had a responsibility to be there for him."

"Belle was depressed?" Aurora concerns.

"Dad." Chad mentions, "Ben kind of does have a lot of problems."

"Look," he sternly faces Chad. "I realize you don't know this yet, but it's really not that hard to take care of your child. And it doesn't matter how ill they are. Some kids are going to be sick, but Belle and Adam are the only parents I know that would tell a seven-year-old to manage their own medication rather than go through proper channels, all because they're so scared the life they know will be challenged."

"Wait." Audrey sighs, "Ben's on medication?"

Charming takes a moment, "No. Because, Ben's parents felt a prescription would leave too much of a paper trail and that the press would get ahold of it." He holds up the glasses, "I should get these to him."

"I don't believe it," Leah shakes her head. "Just when you think people can't get any worse, they find a way to prove you wrong every time."

"What do you think he's sick with?" Audrey questions.

When she looks at Chad, he murmurs, "It's his body temperature. It's always way too high. Like, really high."

"How high?" she concerns.

Chad's frown deepens, "Even with medicine, he could die from it."

"Great," Queen Leah scoffs. "All we need is for King Beast to rule again."

"He won't," Chad reassures, and they stare at him. "In Ben's will, I get the crown."

"But you don't have the experience," she counters.

"My father will be acting as regent, until I do."

"Will?" Audrey notices. "You make it seem like he will die."

Chad sniffles, "He always says he will."

When his father sits back down, he notices his pained expression, "Chad?"

"He's going to die," Chad whispers, "and there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"Chad." He turns towards him and places a hand on his shoulder, "The chances of Ben dying any time soon—"

"All he has to do is get the flu," Chad reminds him. "And with his parents—"

He watches him shake his head, "Chad. Ben is right there. Look at him. He's fine."

When Chad looks over, Ben sees him, and he races from the chair, heading towards the brick bathrooms. He shouldn't still be so upset. He's known about this for months, but Ben's always seen the best in him. If he's gone, will he be gone too? Chad clutches the sink as he whimpers, but when he sees the shadow in the mirror he gasps and turns around. "Holy crap, William," he exasperates. "You can't just lurk in the shadows like that."

"Why not?" he smiles. "It's fun. You wouldn't believe the things you get to know, when people think they're alone."

Chad shakes his head, "I've been trying to text you. Where've you been?"

"You know," he eyes down, as he kicks his foot back-and-forth. "Getting help."

"For your sunburn?" he assumes.

"No." He quiets, "Whenever I get sunburned, I get all blood-crazed. My parents sent me to a nutritionist to figure out why."

Chad frowns, "What did they find?"

"Nothing." He keeps his hands in his pockets. "But when Ben did his interview, they heard him talk about the emotional side of it all."

"Ben's not a vampire," he rejects.

"Probably not," William accepts, "but it gave them the idea to send me to a therapist."

Chad chuckles, "I'm guessing they had something to say."

William takes a moment, "Basically, food is more than about nourishment. It's a staple of daily life that lets the mind know that the environment is safe and that the body will survive." He observes his expression, "Going without food can cause anxiety and depression, and the therapist theorizes that the reason why I get sunburn so often is because my mind sees that as a way to get the thing it needs to feel secure… Because, if I'm sunburned, my father has a reason to feed that thing to me."

"And you believe that?" Chad doubts.

"I tried to go this last time without the blood," William informs, "but it was too hard. It felt like the world was ending." His eyes shift, "My father's helping me more now, but my parents want me to get a donor."

He shakes his head, "Where do you find one of those?"

"Normally, it's the person you're with," he explains, "but I've been avoiding relationships because of this. I don't have a girlfriend I've had for two years, who I can just ask to do this for me."

"How about a friend?" Chad suggests. "You and Brendan get along, don't you?"

"Brendan?" he unsurely contemplates.

"I mean, you live in the same kingdom," he reasons. "If this is really just in your head, you're going to want your food close, right?"

"You're a problem solver and an asshole," William points out.

"Yep." Chad seethes, "I do try my best." before his expression falls. "You're not going to bite me now, are you?"

"You?" he takes offense. "You smell like poison. You should try cologne or something."

Chad's face scrunches, "Ben likes the way I smell."

William gives a look, "What? Are you trying to get him to bite you?"

"No." He crosses his arms and smiles, "I just like the attention."

"Didn't you break up with him, because you didn't want the attention?" he counters.

"Why does everyone think we're dating?" Chad argues, "We're not."

"So, you don't like him, and he's not super annoyed by you?" Chad quiets, and William continues, "I know you two, and you two really need to just kiss and make up."

"He doesn't want to kiss me," he irritably responds. "That's the problem. Ben's not a fucking homo. He just has some stupid need I was a dummkopf enough to take care of."

"Hey." Chad hears his father enter the bathroom. "How are holding up?"

William excuses himself, "I should go."

When he passes him, Chad comments, "Wait. It's sunny. You can't go out there."

William faces him, "You do not know how ridiculously early I had to sleep to be awake for this. I'm not going to let a little sun stop me."

"Hold on," Chad commands.

"Don't worry," he dismisses. "I'm good at finding shade."

After William leaves, Chad's father questions, "What was that about?"

"Uh, yeah." Chad turns to him, "William's a vampire, I guess."

He frowns, "When did this happen?"

"His whole life?" Chad slowly answers. "He got the virus from his mom."

"Snow White's a vampire?"

Chad hesitates, "The council's not going to like that, are they?"

"Ben wouldn't mind," Charming comments. "And so long as the king's okay with it, the council will just have to deal with it. If they want to kick Florian's family off the council, they won't get a unanimous vote out of me."

"Good," Chad agrees. "He's having a hard-enough time the way it is."

"William?" he inquires. "Why?"

"Some psycho analyst told him he'd feel better if he ate more," Chad scoffs. "His parents want to him to get a donor, but he doesn't have any personal relationships to ask anyone."

"I assume you didn't offer."

He excuses, "I'm not going to donate to him, if there's a chance Ben might want some 'companionship' again."

"You're allowed to say no," his father reminds him.

He shakes his head, "Ben doesn't know what no means." before he thinks. "Probably because anytime he tells his parents no, they make him do it anyway."

"I hate to bring this up, when your mind has moved on to something else," he detours, "but you should know Ben has made me his emergency contact."

Chad takes a second, "What does that mean?"

"It means that if he does get sick, you will be able to be there if things don't go well."

"You mean, if he dies," Chad blatantly interprets.

"He's afraid of dying alone," he explains. "And I know it would do you both good, if you were there to say goodbye, should that time come."

Chad nods, "Okay."

His father places a hand to his shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Chad continues to frown, "I'm fine."

He nods, "We should go. His speech will be starting soon."

* * *

Ben had fallen from the stage, Chad caught him in his arms, and then Ben returned to his speech as though nothing had happened. It was very much like Ben to act like his life was perfect, even though his father's hurt him and he's been biologically sentenced to death. The reporters asked about his health, he dismissed his day blindness and fainting off the stage as clumsiness, and then Chad guided him away. William said it clearly: Ben is a carnivore, and Ben looked down in shame. Ben is a carnivore, and he didn't tell him. Ben is a carnivore, and Chad had unwittingly let him feed from him. Ben is a carnivore, and he's no longer eating. He marches up to the table his and Audrey's family had been sitting at, before he questions, "Is it true? Is Ben a carnivore?"

Chad's father faces Audrey's family and comments in English, "Excuse us."

After they find someplace private, Chad accuses, "You knew. You knew, and you didn't think you should tell me?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell," his father addresses.

"I'm your son," he reminds him.

"And Ben's my colleague." Chad glances off, and he comments, "I thought Ben would tell you, if he hadn't already."

"He was just trying to convince me that everything that happened," Chad pauses, "that it wasn't just about him trying to get blood."

"I truly believe he was looking for companionship," his father reassures.

Chad takes a deep breath, "And now he's not eating. Like, at all."

"I know," he nods.

"He's going to die," Chad worries.

"I won't let that happen," he reassures.

"You need to talk to his parents," Chad rushes. "They need to be taking care of this."

He pauses, "The last time I made a comment about Ben's eating, Belle took it as a personal offense against her parenting." Chad wipes a drip from his nose, and he places a hand to his shoulder, "I promise I will take care of Ben, but it's going to have to be at the right time." He meets his eyes, "Okay?"

Chad sniffles before nodding, "Okay."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 12/14/2019


	8. Trading Favors

**Trading Favors **

**(Sunday Morning, July 28****th****)**

"Of course, Ben would blame his problems on you," Chad frowns. "Selfish ass couldn't just say he's wrong, could he?"

"It would be great if you could talk to him for me," William asks.

Chad's eyes widen, "Did you forget that every time I try to talk to Ben, all he seems to hear is the blood in my veins." before he shakes his head. "Sorry. I can't."

"He's really upset that I told you about him," William quietly comments. "He's not going to talk to me again, until you tell him you don't hate him for what he is."

"He should be upset," Chad asserts. "All this time that Ben and I were friends, and he couldn't find a time to tell me about this?"

"I don't think he knew until recently," William speculates.

"According to my father," Chad informs, "Ben told him he just found out this year, when he was blocked off from seeing Mal at the hospital." He steps forward, "You know what I think? I think that a damn carnivore is going to know if they have a taste for blood or not."

William takes a moment, "I didn't know what I was until this summer." and Chad stares at him. He explains, "Every summer I get really sick. It gets to a point when I can't even breathe in air conditioning. This summer my mother told me to sleep more during the day, and when I didn't get sick, she filled me in. I didn't just have some weird craving for blood I couldn't tell anyone about. I was an actual fucking vampire, and she was too."

"She should have told you," Chad decides, "and Ben's parents should have told him."

"So, you don't blame Ben?" William asks.

"He told me he had a blood fetish," he informs, "so I guess he did try to tell me. In his interview he did say that's the only way he could describe it at the time."

"So, what's the problem?" he questions.

"The problem is," Chad persists, "is that Ben knew what he was at the time. I know he did, and now he wants to pretend that he was never trying to eat me?" William stays silent, and Chad questions, "What? Are you going to tell me it wasn't about food?"

"I already told you my opinion," he plainly states. "I think Ben has a giant ass crush on you, and he doesn't know what to do with it."

"Before I broke it off, I offered my blood if he'd go down on me or give a hand job." Chad disagrees, "If Ben really had a crush on me, he wouldn't have minded getting a little slutty for his stupid blood."

"I heard Ben doesn't like sex," he counters. "If that's true, he's going to be looking for intimacy and romance, not trading favors."

"Isn't he supposed to be a diplomat?" Chad points out. "He can figure it out."

William takes a minute, "I still think you need to talk to Ben. You know how he gets. He's not going to be able to stop thinking about this, until it's solved."

"He's not going to think the problem is solved," Chad inputs, "until I forgive, which isn't happening until he gives me a reason to." William fails to speak, and Chad sighs, "But I guess if you want, I can tell him he's being an ass for you."

"No." William frowns, "It's fine."

Chad observes him, "I never asked how you were doing with the, uh, donor thing."

"Am I in that bad of a mood?" he fails to joke.

"You're getting all depressed again," he notices.

William shakes his head, "Just low energy."

"I read about that," Chad recalls. "Can't you buy time with a storm or something?"

"What storm?" William points out, and Chad nods. "A storm is like an energy drink. Even if there was one, it wouldn't work forever."

"Have you asked Brendan, yet?"

William watches as he kicks his foot over the ground, "I don't know if I want to."

"Why?" Chad irritably questions, "Does he taste like poison too?"

William faces Chad, "I don't want him to feel obligated, and I don't want to worry about my donor cutting me off."

"You think he would do that?"

"Friends fight," he reminds him. "What if I make him feel used like Ben did to you, and he decides I'm not worth it anymore?"

Chad thinks, "The big problem with Ben and me was that we didn't have rules, and when I tried to set some, he didn't take me seriously." He raises his brows, "If you make a set day of the week when the… donation happens and don't bring it up the rest of the week, I can promise you he won't feel like the only relationship you have is about blood."

"What if once a week isn't enough," he worries. "I just had it last Wednesday, and you're already complaining about me being in a bad mood."

"So, make it twice a week," Chad solves. "Find a second person who can help you. You think humans only have one food source? We have cows, apple trees, and vegetable gardens. You can have a second food source too, and if you do, maybe you won't be as anxious about losing one of them."

"Maybe," he contemplates.

"I would offer," Chad half smiles, "but you think I smell like poison."

"It's the drug you're on," he explains. "It's in your bloodstream."

"You make me sound like an addict," Chad points out.

"Aren't you?" William agrees.

Chad takes a minute, "When the school year starts, ask Carlos to help you. Just make sure you pay him."

"Unorganized prostitution is illegal," he frowns.

"A lot of things are illegal," Chad dodges. "Both me and Ben have done illegal things with Carlos. I know he won't mind." He offers an inquiring look, "And aren't you only allowed one legal donor at a time anyway? If you need two, you don't have a lot of choice."

"Technically, I'm breaking the law just by having my father help me," William figures.

"So, when school starts, you'll ask Carlos for help?" he rechecks.

"I can ask him," he confirms.

"Good." He nods to his pocket, "Now, call Brendan."

He takes a deep breath, "You're not even giving me a choice."

"Sure, I am," Chad counters. "Health is a choice. I'm just making sure you make the right one." He nods again, "Now, call, before I kick your dark side to his estate."

"You're going to kick my ass to his manor?" William doubts.

"It's sunny enough for me to drag you there," he threatens.

He sighs and pulls out his phone, and after a single ring Brendan answers. William looks at Chad, and the voice emits from the phone again, "William? You there?"

"Yeah," he answers. "Um." He gives Chad a look and shakes his head, "I was just wondering if you'd like to hang out tonight or, um, tomorrow morning. I have something I'd like to talk to you about."

"Tonight's good," he answers. "Why don't you come over for dinner?"

William takes a minute, "Yeah. That, um… What time?"

"Seven," he informs. "Ham or chicken?"

"Ham," he immediately answers.

"Awesome. See you then."

When the call ends, William stares at Chad, and Chad smiles, "Look at the vampire king, being served food without even asking."

"If he's inviting me to dinner," William stresses, "that means he told his parents, and they want to talk to me personally."

"So, basically, it's a date," Chad concludes.

"Most dates don't end in the parents deciding whether the guy is worth their son offering blood donations," he furiously replies. "And it's tonight. I have from the time I go to sleep to the time I wake up to figure out what I'm going to wear and how to impress them."

"You're looking at this the wrong way," he moves forward and places his hands on his arms. "If Brendan told his parents, it means he's worried about you. His parents will just want to make sure you're being safe. By the end of the night, they'll be confident that you're the amazing guy you are, and you'll never have to burn your behind to get blood again."

"You're not crushing on me now, are you?" he concerns.

"Are you kidding?" Chad slaps his shoulder, "You're like my twin."

"I wonder that," William frowns. "You know, if our grandparents could have been from the same village."

"If you believe Adam and Eve were the only people at the time," Chad recalls, "then we're all related."

"I don't," William discloses, before he glances over him. "Ben hit on me once."

"What?" Chad's brows furrow.

"It was a few years ago," William elaborates. "He thought I was you. At the time I thought it was just how best friends teased each other."

Chad's eyes shift, "What did he say?"

"He ruffled my hair and called me King Midas."

Chad eyes off in annoyance, "He made fun of how gold my hair got. That's nowhere close to being hit on."

"So, you two invade each other's personal space for no reason?" he points out.

Chad narrows his eyes, "Don't you need to get to sleep or something?"

William sidesteps, "Thank you for the help." before he walks away.

Chad glances at him leave, before he checks his watch. His next dose will be soon. If this is going to work, he can't miss it. He needs to get home.

* * *

"So, William," Brendan's father starts, "school's coming up. What's your favorite class?"

"Gym," he immediately answers.

He chuckles, "I meant inside the classroom."

"Biology was nice last year," he informs. "And Fairy Godmother has recommended a new science class to me this year."

"And what might that be?" Brendan's mother smiles.

"Virology," he answers. "Mr. Hawthorne will be heading the class."

"Will this be covering flu viruses or?" he slowly prompts.

"It could start out simple like that, I suppose," William thinks, "but I'm told a large part of the class is supposed to be on retroviruses."

"Retro?" he laughs. "Like, fashionably old."

"Yes, er," she inquires, "could you explain?"

William hesitates, "A retrovirus is a virus that can change someone's DNA. Examples would be like the werewolf or, um, vampire viruses."

"Scary, isn't it?" she touches her husband's arm. "To think that something so small could change so much about you?"

He turns to William, "Did you feel different, after you changed?"

"I wouldn't know," he frowns. "I was born with the virus."

"Oh."

"When I became a teenager, things did get worse," he entertains. "Bright things got brighter, hot things got hotter, and the things I was eating helped less and less." He pauses, "But I also got faster and stronger, and I can hear everything."

"He can hear thoughts too," Brendan evenly expresses.

"He's joking," William partly smiles.

"I'm not," he assures.

"There might have been a time when I read my French teacher's mind," he admits. "I was asked a trivia question, and at the same time I was thinking I didn't know, I heard something in French. I didn't know what it was, but when I repeated it, I was told I answered right."

"It happens more than you think," Brendan seriously responds, and William faces him. "There's times when you answer questions I think or start conversations I was too afraid to start."

"Really?"

"You think I would talk about how pathetic I am at dating with just anyone?" he cases.

"Sorry," he glances down.

Brenden shakes his head, "If it was anyone else, it might bother me, but I'm used to you being unusually perceptive." He takes a bite of stuffing, "It barely even surprises me anymore."

"Do you not like cinnamon on ham?" his mother asks William.

"Sorry," William realizes. "I get distracted." He takes a bite of the ham and nods, "It's good." before eating more.

"You're sure?" she concerns.

"Ham's juicy," he informs. "It's good."

Brendan's parents look at each other, before the father questions, "What do you normally eat? Is it just meat or…?"

"I can eat things other than meat," William informs. "But there's only certain things that will make me feel like I ate, specific meats and… I guess, animal products."

"Like?" Brendan's mother prompts.

"Steak. Cheese. Egg yolks," he lists. "Mostly, juicy meats. Lunch meat or dried beef wouldn't really count."

"Blood," he brings up.

"Dad," Brendan pleads.

"It's a simple question," he persists. "Blood is found in meat. You can buy it at the local butcher, so why is a donor necessary?

"I don't know the science behind it," William starts.

"Well, maybe you should," he argues.

"Honey," she tries to reason.

"All I want to know," he interrupts, "is what your intentions are with my son."

William takes a minute, "My intention is to remain his friend whether he helps me or not." and Brendan's father sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. He faces his friend, "I didn't even really want to ask you. I was afraid it might make you feel like I didn't care about you, but Chad said that having rules and only doing it once a week might make it not like that."

Brendan looks at his parents, "I still want to help." and his father stands from the table.

"He just needs some time," she reassures.

William looks from Brendan's mother to him, "If you're sure about helping me, there's a legal way to do it."

"I know," Brendan nods. "I read about it." He faces his mother, "Can we go to City Hall tomorrow to sign the document?"

She hesitates, "You said these contracts last a year?" He nods, and she nods in return, "We can go in the morning."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 12/26/2019


	9. Accusations

**Accusations **

**(Monday Afternoon, July 29****th****)**

Snow White smiles, "So, Prince Chad, you're here today to satisfy the public's questions about your relationship with King Ben?"

"That's right," he crosses his ankle over his knee.

"And how would you describe your relationship with him?"

"Well, we've always been friends," he uneasily begins.

"As Ben has already stated," she confirms.

"We get into fights," he informs, "but this time was different." He pauses, "I was trying to set boundaries with him, but he wasn't really taking me seriously. He seemed to think he could just talk his way out of it, do whatever he wanted to do."

"What do you mean, set boundaries?" she inquires.

He takes a moment. "Ben and I have become close over the years. We've depended on each other, teased each other, and invaded each other's personal space," he rolls his eyes. "It eventually led to him asking for the blood or connection—whatever he wants to call it. I was okay with it at first, but I started to feel like he cared more about what he could get from me than just being there with me…" He glances down, "I tried to set boundaries, but, I guess, because of how long we'd been so close, he didn't take me seriously." Chad shakes his head, "After he started to get it, he said he'd never try it without my permission again." His frown deepens, "But I could tell he was still thinking about it. He wasn't with me. He was stuck in some thought of how he could get me—or convince me to let him do it."

"Is that what the fight was about?" she asks.

"That was a big part of it," Chad confirms. "I got tired of not being heard, of it being so one-sided. I was giving him my blood, and he had nothing to offer me?" He runs a hand through the air, "You know, I could have anyone: friend or otherwise. And I'm not going to let someone use me, just because they're fucking king of the country." He falters and glances offstage, "Sorry. Was I not supposed to say that?"

"There's a thirty second delay," Snow White explains. "Whatever the studio considers inappropriate language can be fixed."

Chad nods, "Anyway. Yeah" before he narrows his eyes at the camera, "Ben. If you really wanted to be friends, you should have showed it." He turns back to the interviewer, "I know Ben likes to be alone, but relationships are a two-way street. If he wants one, he's going to have to learn there's more to it than just sending a text every few days and hanging out once a week. You need to be there, and you need to listen to the other person's needs."

"What do you think it would take for you to forgive him?" she continues.

Chad's brows lift, "He could get down on his knees and show me he cares about me just as much as I care about him."

"He would have to be sincerely apologetic," she interprets.

"It doesn't matter if Ben's sorry for what he's done," Chad disbelieves. "Ben's always sorry. It doesn't stop him from doing it again. Saying sorry isn't enough. If he wants to be friends again, he'll have to show he is."

Snow White touches her earpiece, "People are calling in to ask you questions. Would you like me to ask them, or would you like to speak to them directly?"

"Put them on," Chad confidently answers.

After she presses the line button on the phone, a man speaks, "Prince Chad?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"So, I actually have a few questions for you," he unsurely starts.

"Okay," Chad permisses.

"You said you've given King Ben blood?"

"Small amounts," he contemplates.

"And when you stopped giving it to him, he took it anyway?" he questions.

"Um," Chad thinks. "It's more complicated than that, but pretty much."

"So, the king assaulted you?" he concludes. Chad frowns, the pressure of Ben on top of him and the image of the hand on his leg. His heart races, and the caller inquires, "Prince Chad?"

"Sorry," he apologizes. "Yes?"

"Yes, he assaulted you?"

Chad's mouth hangs open, "I'm not pressing charges."

"But isn't it your job as a royal to bring crimes to the light?"

He takes an uneasy breath, "It's my job as Ben's long-term friend to make sure he doesn't off himself." Chad shakes his head, "Ben has a lot of stress in his life, and—believe it or not—he doesn't have an awesome support system. And I'm not going to press charges, just because he trusted his best friend enough to depend on me for the connection he needed."

"Prince Chad," he cautiously continues. "The right thing to do would be to make him accountable for his actions."

He pauses, "If I turn Ben in for assault, that means he's hurt one of the people he cares about most in the entire world. To Ben, I would be just another person he's hurt. I would be another thing he didn't do right. I would be another reason why he shouldn't be alive."

The man hesitates, "You make King Ben sound suicidal."

"Because, he is," Chad divulges. "He's only tried to kill himself like five times this year."

"Is he not getting help for that?"

"No," Chad scoffs. "No one knows. No one's allowed to know. Ben's king. His parents can't risk him losing his position over some stupid mental crisis or physical illness."

"His parents aren't letting him get help?" he questions.

"Ben has a lot of problems. He's not getting help for any of them," Chad confirms.

"Couldn't you help him?" the man suggests. "If you bring the assault to court, you can ask that he's ordered to get help for the things that caused his illegal actions." He exemplifies, "If his depression made him seek this so-called companionship with you, then the court can make him seek help for that."

Chad looks at Snow White, "I think I've had enough of calls." and he watches her press the button to disconnect the line. "From what I know," he answers, "what that guy was talking about would be a, um… a plea deal." He takes a moment, "If Ben's parents have any say, they won't want the plea deal. If Ben has to choose between saying he has a problem or that he just lost control, he'll say it was a mistake. If I take this to court, it will be taken to court. And if I win, Ben won't be sent to mental health clinic. He would be charged with sexual assault, because in the eyes of the law blood is an intimate thing. As a royal, he might get a ten thousand dollar fine and a year on house arrest."

"But you're a royal," she reminds him. "That puts you on even footing."

"So, three years on house arrest," Chad dismisses. "For Ben, house arrest might be even worse than prison. I'm not doing that to him, and it wouldn't help. It wouldn't help him, and it wouldn't help me."

"You've implied several times now that Ben's home life isn't a good one," she unsurely replies. "Are there any clarifications you would like to make?"

"Yes." Chad faces the camera, "Ben's parents are selfish and controlling, and they do not deserve to be his parents."

"That's quite the sentiment," she frowns.

"Ben has a closet full of secrets." Chad nods, "He has a ton of medical problems, and his parents don't do anything to help him."

"What you're saying could be seen as abuse," she informs.

He shakes his head, "And?"

"And I'd like you to be clear," she seriously responds. "Are you saying you think King Ben's parents have treated him poorly enough for the law to intervene?"

"It doesn't matter what I think," Chad's frown deepens. "I'm just some party guy who dates a new girl every week. I'll probably hear hell from Ben about this later, and I'm sure his family will be able to paint the picture they want." His eyes lower, "They always do."

* * *

_Ben: You told the kingdom my parents are unfit?_ Chad looks at the email message but doesn't respond. _What the hell, Chad? Why?_

Chad starts to text back, before he presses the backspace, starts over again, and writes: _I don't like the way they treat you._

_Ben: And what do you think was going to happen when they heard about this?_

He sighs, and his father inquires, "Chad? What's wrong?"

"It's Ben," he shakes his head, before he types back. _Are you okay?_

His father puts down the fork, "What's he saying?"

Chad tries again: _Ben?_

"Has something happened?" his mother concerns.

Chad takes a minute, "He's not answering."

His father frowns, "Can I see?" Chad scrolls to the top of the conversation and hands the phone to him. His dad's frown turns to shock, before he passes the phone back to Chad and takes out his own.

"Charming? What's going on?" she questions.

"I just need to make sure," he comments.

Chad confesses, "I feel like I got Ben in trouble."

His father touches his hand, "This isn't your fault." before the phone stops ringing, and he brings it closer to his ear.

"Hello?" Ben barely manages.

"What's wrong?" Charming concerns.

"What do you mean?" his voice shakes.

"You sound upset." Ben holds his breath, and he asks again, "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Ben," his voice sterns. "I can tell something's wrong."

"I'm just tired," Ben denies.

"It's more than that," Charming persists.

"I have to go," he excuses, and when the call drops, Charming looks from Chad to Ella. "He was crying."

"His parents probably gave him a guilt trip about telling me," Chad thinks.

His father widens his eyes at him, "Stop thinking any of this is your fault. The way that family interacts has nothing to do with you."

"We must do something," Ella interrupts.

Charming nods, "I'm on it." before he places another call. "Yes. This is King Charming. I'd like a welfare check made for someone." He covers the bottom of the phone, "They're redirecting me." before he hears another voice. "Yes. This is King Charming. I'd like a welfare check to be made on King Ben."

"May I ask what prompted you to make this call?" she inquires.

"I've just spoken to him, and I'm worried about his emotional state," he admits.

"Do you think he might hurt himself?" she asks.

"Maybe," he answers. "Look. I'm worried about his living situation. His family is very private, and I want to make sure they're not blaming recent accusations onto him."

"We will send a couple officers over to check on him," she reassures. "Is there anything else you think we should know?"

He takes a moment, "I know his parents are ignoring his medical needs."

"Sorry. Could you explain further?"

"He has an unusually high body temperature that he's been told to medicate with cold medicine—ever since he was a child—and he sometimes suffers from day blindness. If he tries wearing sunglasses, his father breaks them."

"I've made a note, and I'll let the officers know," she rushes. "Thank you."

The call ends, and he puts the phone down, "It's done."

"I thought you wanted to reason with Belle again?" Chad disbelieves.

He faces him, "I'm tired of Ben being mistreated too. I only hope this works."

"You think it may not?" his wife questions.

"There's a reason why no one's said anything," Charming reminds her. "It's our word against theirs."

"Ben's not going to say anything," Chad confirms.

"No," he acknowledges. "But they'll see he's upset, and they will ask why."


	10. You Wanted This

**You Wanted This **

**(Tuesday Morning, July 30****th****)**

"He said he's fine where he is," Rinehart informs.

Charming glances at his folded hands, "Perhaps I overreacted."

"We don't believe you did." He looks up, and Kolinski comments, "Both Ben and his mother have used the phrase that Adam would never want to hurt them."

"And that kind of phrasing tends to be used when it is happening," the brown-haired officer softly states.

"Dad," Chad says, and the three of them look at him. "What's going on?"

"These are the officers that performed the welfare check on Ben," he explains.

Chad takes a moment, "Can I sit with you?" and after his father nods, Chad takes a seat on that side of the table.

When the officers fail to continue, Charming permits, "It's okay. It's the messages that Ben sent him that prompted me to call."

Kolinski continues, "We were able to confirm that Ben's medical needs are indeed not being taken care of, and we've told Belle that we will be there next week to make sure they are."

"And Adam?" Charming concerns.

Rinehart frowns, "He was less than willing to give Ben that help."

"If Ben's mother tries to help him," Chad worries, "will Adam hurt her?"

After it quiets, Kolinski offers, "It would be easier to hold Adam responsible for his actions next time something happens, if we already have a case against him. Is there anything more you can tell us that may help?"

"Belle is a very rational-minded person," Charming inputs. "She does consider herself victim of Stockholm Syndrome, but she doesn't believe that makes the love she has with Adam any less real."

"She was able to break King Beast's curse," Rinehart recalls.

"Is there anything else?" Kolinski asks again.

"Nothing that hasn't been explained away," he thoughtfully expresses.

Officer Rinehart notices Chad stare at the table, "Prince Chad." He faces him, and he questions, "Have you seen anything?"

"I mean," he hesitates, "I've seen stuff."

"Would you like to tell us?" he asks.

Chad takes a minute, "I don't want to think about it."

"Chad," his father turns to him. "Just because you forget something happened, doesn't mean it never happened. And it doesn't mean it couldn't happen again."

"Well," Chad frowns, "last year everyone saw Ben's dad break down the door to his dorm. Brendan recorded it, but Ben deleted it. He said not to do that next time."

Kolinski takes a note, "What else?"

"He throws things," Chad murmurs.

"Like what?" he inquires.

There was that textbook, there was that vase, "I don't want to talk about it," Chad dismisses.

His father comments, "What you say could keep Ben from getting hurt."

"But he's hurt me," Chad asserts, before he takes a deep breath. "Ben's hurt me, and I… I don't want to think about anyone getting hurt—not even him."

"Have you changed your mind about pressing charges?" Rinehart softly asks, and Chad shakes his head. "Okay. Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

After he shakes his head again, Charming comments, "You can go. I'll tell you anything you need to know later."

Charming refills the teacups, and after Chad leaves into the room, Kolinski addresses, "Your son's been assaulted. Have you taken any action to help him?"

"Therapy," Rinehart clarifies.

Charming deeply frowns, "Chad doesn't take therapists seriously. He thinks they have an answer to everything."

"They're supposed to," Rinehart reminds him. "When people are lost, they go to them for guidance. It's their job to help find solutions for the person's problems."

"Chad's not one for solutions," Charming evenly replies. "He likes to accept things as they are and then move on from it."

"He was upset in the interview," Kolinski counters, "and he's clearly not moving on, mentioning what happened to him instead of offering information that could save someone else from a high-risk situation."

"That's part of his process," Charming defends. "He tells everyone he can, because he wants people on his side. He needs people to know what happened and to believe it. I'm surprised he hasn't talked about it on social media."

"Prince Chad is watching his father try to save the person who assaulted him," Rinehart mentions. "He could probably use the ear of someone who's not involved in these decisions."

"Ben's his friend," Charming quiets. "They've always been friends, no matter what fight they get into. I have full confidence this will eventually be no different."

"It wasn't just a fight, though," Kolinski seriously replies. "It was assault, perhaps even considered sexual assault. Something that serious can lead to anxiety disorders like PTSD."

"Ben didn't," Charming starts, before he sighs. "I'm not defending what he did, but Ben didn't just suddenly assault Chad. They were already close. The issue came when Chad decided to change his mind and Ben didn't comply. But he's apologized since then, and I believe their friendship is strong enough to get past this."

"I would never expect a woman to stay in a marriage," Kolinski compares, "if the man decided he needed to finish up after his wife changed her mind."

Charming nods, "I can ask Chad if he'd like therapy, but I don't think he will want it."

When he hears the knock, Chad puts the pill bottle back in the bedside drawer, before he calls, "Come in."

Charming enters the room and finds a chair near Chad's bed, "I need to ask you something." before Chad cautiously eyes over him. "Do you consider what Ben's done to you, sexual assault?"

He looks away, "Do we have to talk about this?"

"You can either talk to me or a therapist." Chad faces him, and he continues, "I know that I've been concerned about Ben, but his situation has nothing to do with yours. You're allowed to share how you feel." Chad looks away again, and he asks, "Do you consider it sexual assault?"

"I mean, it was pretty personal," he whispers.

"Okay," his father accepts.

"That skinny ass is still so strong, and…" He takes a breath, "He was heavier, then, too. I was so scared that if he wanted me… I wouldn't be able to do anything."

"I didn't think Ben had the opportunity to do anything after you came to us."

"Is this the part where you tell me my claim will make people not believe the people who it actually happened to?" Chad murmurs.

"It was attempted assault," Charming contradicts. "Your feelings are valid." He pauses, "And if you did want to press charges, we can do that."

Chad faces him, "You would?"

Charming takes a moment, "If we press charges, there's a chance Ben can get out of his situation and get help for his other problems."

"Ben doesn't want help," Chad comments. "If I press charges, he won't go to a psych ward. He'd get locked in that castle with his parents." His father doesn't speak, and he reminds him, "But Ben won't have to be in his situation when school starts." Chad mutters, "He's lucky."

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Chad gapes, after he sees Ben outside his bedroom door.

"There was little situation," he lifts a shoulder.

"What kind of situation?" Chad concerns.

Ben wets his lips, "I'd rather not talk about it." before he steps forward and closes the door, eyes never leaving him.

Chad feels his heart pick up, "I think I want the door open."

Ben smirks, "No. You don't." before he presses against his shoulders and Chad finds himself inching towards the bed.

He darts his eyes from the bed to Ben, "No."

His brows furrow, "You don't even know what I'm doing."

"Yes, I do," Chad defends. "You bloodsucking asshole."

"Nice," Ben complements, before Chad sighs. "You're going to need to lay down."

"I need to know what you're doing," he insists.

"I'm apologizing."

His eyes narrow, "You suck at apologizing."

"Well, I haven't done it yet," Ben reasons, before he nods to the bed. Chad looks at it, before he glances back at Ben and complies.

After Chad sits on the bed, he hesitates, "What now?"

"Lay down," Ben instructs, and when Chad's eyes see the ceiling, he feels movement on the bed.

Ben moves one knee over Chad's legs, and he reaches for the button of Chad's pants, "You wanted me to show you that I care."

"You don't have to," Chad cautions.

"That's the point, isn't it?" Ben inquires. "If I'm willing, I care. And if I care, then I wasn't just using you." They share some silence, before Ben unbuttons the pants. "Relax."

Chad rests on the pillow, and he feels the hand on his member. It pulls and it tugs, and a wet tickle trickles across the bottom of the head. He shuts his eyes, taking deep breaths, as the sensation grows. "Ben," he breathes.

He cracks his eyes open, and black strands invade his vision. Chad's eyes open wide, lifting himself, as he sees the man in front of him. His brown eyes meet him, "You wanted this."

"No." Chad tries to get away, but he can't move his legs. He can't even feel them. He's trapped. There's no way out.

"Clearly, I'm being of service to you or else you would tell me to stop."

"Stop," Chad commands, but he's voiceless. He cries for help, but it's silent. He tries again. He opens his mouth so wide, and he feels it deep in his throat; however, he's lost it.

When he sees the darkness of his room, Chad turns on the lamp and catches his breath. There's no one here. He wipes the sweat from his forehead, before he takes his pills from the drawer and stares at them. He's not supposed to have one now, but half of one couldn't hurt. He takes the multitool from the nightstand to cut a pill in half and then crush it. He takes in the powder, before he rests back on the bed. He feels the stickiness in his underwear, and he stares ahead. It happened. There's nothing he can do, but he can take a shower.

* * *

\- **Posted**: 02/22/2020


	11. With God All Things are Possible

**With God All Things are Possible **

**(Wednesday Morning, July 31****st****)**

Chad holds his hands tightly together, as he stares at the pill bottle, "Will God all things are possible. With God all things are possible. With God—"

When he hears the knock, he hurries to place the orange bottle back into the drawer. "Chad. You up, yet?"

He strides to the door and opens it, "If I wasn't before, I am now."

William notices him shake, "What's wrong?"

Chad places a hand to the back of his shoulder, pushes him inside, and shuts the door, before he stresses, "You need to distract me for another hour."

He frowns, "Didn't you just get a new prescription?"

"Yes," Chad stresses, "and I'm already fucking it up." William doesn't respond, so Chad pleads, "Please, just distract me. If I can't get a handle of this, my doctor's going to tell my parents. That can't happen."

"We could fence," William offers. "With the state you're in, I might actually win."

Chad shakes his head, "I can't do that right now."

"You need to push through this," he opinionates. "You can't just sit and think about not thinking about it." Chad looks down, and he suggests, "Hoops? We can play horse."

"I don't know, man," Chad shuts his eyes, before he heads for a beanbag chair and slumps down into it.

He sees him cry and walks over to him, "There's only forty-five minutes left. You can make it."

Chad takes two deep breaths, "It's not that." He folds his arms, "I wish Ben was here."

"Dude." He reminds him, "Aren't you afraid of him assaulting you or something?"

He rests his head in his hand, "I don't know what to think anymore." He told him things he hadn't told anyone else, such personal information. "I led him on. Maybe it's my fault."

"It's not," William asserts. "If you said no—"

"I didn't say a damn thing," Chad shouts, before he whimpers, "I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say a damn thing."

When Ben sees the missed call, he rings Brendan, "You called?"

"Yeah, I called," he frustrates.

"You know I like my phone on silent."

"You're king," he stresses. "That's not an option anymore."

He eyes off. King or not, he should still be allowed to sleep for four hours without interruption. He sighs, "I just got off work for my other job. What's this about?"

"William tells me Chad's a mess."

"William tells you?" Ben unsurely says.

"Well, you don't want to talk to him," Brendan reasons, "so he told me to tell you."

"That Chad's a mess," Ben continues. "How so?"

"He's abusing his newer, stronger prescription," he explains. "And William seems to think part of it was over his guilt about what happened between you two."

"His guilt?"

"That because he led you on and didn't say no, that it's his fault," Brendan mentions.

"What are you talking about?" Ben denies, "Chad did say no."

"He said he didn't," Brendan counters.

Ben sighs, "It took him a minute to say it, but he clearly said no. It's my fault. I'm the one that should be feeling guilty about it—not him."

"Would you like to tell him that?" Brendan suggests.

"He doesn't want to see me," Ben murmurs.

"He wanted you there today," he contradicts. "You can at least video chat him."

Ben nods, "Right." before he partly smiles. "What app is that again?"

* * *

After Chad finds the second half of the pill he'd taken that morning, he crushes and uses it. His phone rings, and he answers the video call. Ben smiles, "You answered."

Chad rubs his nose, "And?"

Ben frowns, "Well, there's a rumor that you miss me."

"Is there?" he evenly expresses.

Ben eyes over the small screen, "Are you okay?"

"Are you okay?" Chad points out.

He sighs, "It's just, someone told me it sounded like you felt guilty about what I did—or tried to do—to you, but I need you to know it's not your fault. It's mine. I know that. And I really am sorry about that."

Chad stares at him, "Not everything is about you. Stop thinking it is."

"I know about what you talked with William about," Ben defends. "Now, tell me. Who else could you have led on who hurt you? Huh?"

Chad looks away, and Ben falters. He faces him, "You know, I don't even think this has anything to do with you anymore. I like you, and you liked my blood. Fine. You couldn't stop thinking about me, and I took a break. Great. You apologized. Awesome." He shakes his head, and tears intrude his eyes, "But I'm afraid of getting hurt, Ben. I can't go through that again."

"I don't want to hurt you," Ben makes clear. "I miss you, and it's not just the blood. I miss sharing a language with someone who doesn't mind helping with all the king stuff." Chad doesn't speak, and Ben wets his lips, "I feel like if I'm being honest, I could tell you if I was having a bad day, where you wouldn't want to be around me."

"Ben," he addresses, "that was like every visit we had. The minute you can smell me, you want me."

"Then wear cologne," he solves.

Chad takes a moment, "Do you even understand what you're asking?"

Ben awkwardly smiles, "I don't understand. I just thought—"

"I love you," he reminds him. "You know that. I'm not going to wear something that disgusts you, just because you have no self-control."

"But if you're only not seeing me because you're afraid I might hurt you—"

"Would you want to see Mal," Chad interrupts, "if you had to wear something that disgusts her? You would never get her back then."

He cautions, "I suggested it, Chad. I'm not going to think less of you for it."

"Well, how could you?" he attacks. "It's not like you ever loved me."

"Chad," Ben softly speaks. "I care about you."

"How much?" Ben shakes his head, and he huffs, "Yeah. You know, it's probably better if I don't see you, anyway. Because, every time I see you, I can't help but feel something, and every time I act on an ounce of that, you end up almost hurting me."

"Chad," Ben starts.

"Call it a sign from God," Chad calmly comments, "that I'm on the wrong path and we're not meant to be."

"Chad," he stresses.

He hangs up, the call ends, and he texts Audrey: _any charities tomorrow?_


	12. Difference

**Difference **

**(Thursday Evening, August 1****st****)**

"Two movies down," Chad sighs, before he searches for another one.

"It's almost six," Brendan mentions.

Chad glances at his watch, "In five minutes. Huh." He nods him from the couch. "Come on. I'll see if you can stay to eat." He stands up, Brendan follows Chad out of the large room, through the wide halls, across the gallery, and into the dining room.

"I'm always amazed by how big your castle is," he comments.

Chad deeply frowns, "It's a palace." as he heads to the hidden door to the kitchen.

"What's the difference?"

"A castle is made for protection. A palace is made to impress." He irritably explains, "That's why it takes fifteen damn minutes to walk anywhere here. And people call me lazy for it." They walk around the corner, and Chad sees his mom. "Can Brendan stay for dinner?"

"There will be plenty to spare." She removes the oven mitts and faces him, "Your father won't be joining us tonight."

"What?" Chad's face scrunches. "Why?"

She takes a moment, "Well, you remember that he had that meeting earlier."

"Yeah." He points out, "But that was hours ago. He should have been back by now."

"Chad," she hesitates, "your dad is accompanying Ben at the hospital."

"The hospital?" Brendan looks at Chad and notices his shock.

"I just talked to him yesterday," he disbelieves. "What happened?"

She sets the mitts aside, "His father happened." before she faces him. "And Belle couldn't take him to the hospital, so your father's taking care of him." Chad shakes his head. "I'm told Ben's stable, but he will be at the hospital for the remainder of the week."

He meets her blue eyes, "Can I see him?"

She cautiously comments, "We will discuss that with your father when he gets home."

* * *

"He wants to see him," Ella informs, as she removes her earrings.

Charming pauses, "What do you mean?"

"Chad wants to visit Ben in the hospital," she repeats. "He's worried sick about him."

He takes off his house shoes, "Ben's not allowed to eat. He's going to have a hard-enough time obeying those orders without people visiting of whom he's taken interest."

She turns towards him, "You're afraid Ben will assault him again?"

He faces her, "Ben's in no condition to assault someone, even if he does try. What I'm afraid of is triggering Ben's appetite. If he eats anything, he may need additional surgery." He shakes his head, "I'm not taking any chances. Chad can see him another time."

"Would you like to tell him that?" she asks, as she sits on the bed.

He takes her hands, "I'll take care of it."

"And Ben?" she inquires, and he releases a breath. "As much as you care for him, you're not his father."

"Good," he nods. "If I were his father, our son would be in the hospital right now."

She frowns, "You're getting defensive."

"Of course, I'm defensive," Charming sighs. "I practically raised the kid, Ella. I went to every piano recital. I chaperoned his field trips. I helped to teach him how to be king."

She takes a moment, "You act as if you'd like to adopt him."

"If it meant getting him out of his situation," he asserts, "I would." She meets his eyes, and he questions, "Would you not?"

"We already have a son," she reminds him. "A son who seeks more attention than we have to offer. What happens when suddenly that attention moves to Ben?"

He evenly expresses, "I'm already taking care of Ben, and I don't believe Chad would want his childhood best friend to be isolated and hurt just so he might get more attention."

* * *

"Are you going to the hospital?" Chad chases his dad down the hall.

He turns to him, "Chad."

"I want to go with," he persists.

He places his hands on Chad's shoulders, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come."

"I have to see him." Chad asserts, "I need to know he's okay."

"If you see him," his father seriously replies, "he might not be okay." Chad quiets, and he explains, "Ben has just undergone surgery, and the complexities of his injury has made it so he's not allowed to eat. I can't have him craving things he can't have."

"I'll wear cologne," he solves.

"Chad," he tries to reason.

"No," he interrupts. "Ben won't want me if I'm wearing that shit. He told me himself. You have to let me see him."

He firmly remarks, "Fine. But I want you to wear long sleeves too."

"I will," he grins, before he darts back to his room.

Ella walks behind him, "Change your mind?"

"No," he stresses, "but I know Ben would want to see him too."

"You can't keep putting Ben ahead of our son," she disputes.

"If Ben really were my child," Charming counters, "you wouldn't say I'm choosing one over the other. You would agree, we need to take care of both."

"But he's not your son," she reminds him, "and because he has hurt our son, I cannot see this as an equal situation. You're either helping our son or you're helping the person who hurt him. Now, tell me, are you really willing to put Chad in danger?"

Charming deeply frowns, "Ben continues to be more of a danger to himself than anyone else. He would sooner kill himself than hurt someone else, and he's tried. And the mere thought that Ben is any threat in his current condition shows just how little you think of him."

"I couldn't care less of Ben's state of mind," Ella inputs. "The fact is he's hurt our son in the past, and there's no reason to believe he won't again."

"What are you two even arguing about?" Chad complains, and they see his anger.

"Pumpkin," his mother says.

He steps towards them, "You know what? I am so tired of everyone talking about how Ben hurt me. It happened to me. No one else has the right to complain about it."

"Chad," she starts.

"No," he interrupts. "Everyone thinks he's such a bad guy now, but they forget he's my best friend. I don't care that he hurt me. I care he lied."

"Being your best friend doesn't give him the right to hurt you," she inserts.

"But he didn't mean to." Chad tears up, "There's way worse people out there, and you're focusing on the one person who's never summed me up as some idiot jock with a narcissistic personality?" She silences, and he faces his father, "My scent is covered. Can we go?"

He nods, "We can do that."

Ella sighs, "Charming."

He frowns at her, "If I can make a difference in Ben's life, I'm doing it. And because he isn't our child, I don't need to discuss his wellbeing with you." He eyes over her, "You take in mice, but you wouldn't take in another royal's child?"

"He's dangerous," she insists.

"Mice can be too," he evenly responds, "but that didn't stop you from caring for a life. How dangerous someone or something is has never stopped you from showing mercy before. Personally, I believe that if you can make an exception for Anastasia, you can make an exception for Ben. And if Chad's willing to give him another chance, you have no reason not to either."


	13. Not Like That

**Not Like That **

**(Friday Afternoon, August 2****nd****) **

"Ben was given some morphine back when his shoulder was fractured," the nurse informs, "but that shouldn't have been enough for him to have a tolerance like this."

Chad walks into the room and eyes over everyone, "What's going on?"

"Chad," Ben stresses. "Do I use morphine?"

"Uhm," his eyes shift.

Ben glowers, "I don't do drugs. That shouldn't be that hard of a question."

He unsurely responds, "Yeah, sure. But you're not exactly watching what you're eating, are you?"

He tilts his head, "Is that an invitation?"

"Ben," Charming warns.

"What?" he disbelieves. "He knows I don't. He doesn't need to be such an ass about it." He widens his eyes at Chad, "And organic or not, you don't know what you're eating either."

"Okay," The nurse interrupts. "Let's slow down here." She looks at Ben, "Does your donor get screened properly?"

Ben shakes his head, "I don't have a donor." before he looks at Charming. "No wonder I'm not in jail. No one watches the damn news."

"Ben," he says again.

"I'll save you the time," he turns back to the nurse. "There's one person I know for sure who had a prescription for morphine, but I only had them like once. Maybe twice."

"Were you in a relationship with this person?" she inquires.

Ben glances at Chad, "How is that even relevant?"

She looks from Chad to Ben, "Drugs can be carried through sweat. If this person was using morphine and you were, let's say, just sucking on their neck, that alone could have given you a mild dose of it."

"And you said it seemed like a mild tolerance that he had?" Charming checks.

She nods, "That's correct."

Ben watches him about to say his name again, "What's even the point of this?"

The nurse frowns, "The point is to know what caused the tolerance so that the tolerance doesn't get worse."

Ben stares at the ceiling, and Charming comments, "They're running out of ways to treat you. Imagine if you broke an arm. Wouldn't you want the morphine to work?"

"Chad." He widens his eyes at him, "You can save me at any time."

When his father looks at him, Chad frowns, "It's me. Okay?"

He stares at him, "Chad. What do you mean?"

"When my ankle was hurt," Chad reminds him, "I had a prescription to manage the pain. I was still trying to wean myself off it when Ben…"

His eyes widen, "When he drank from you and couldn't stop thinking about it."

"Yes," Chad murmurs.

Charming turns to Ben, "You knew he was taking it?"

Ben cowers, "Yes."

He looks back at Chad, "And you knew it was in your bloodstream?"

"Yes," he says again.

Charming's mouth gapes, "And you two still did it. Why?"

"I wanted him," Ben whispers.

"And I liked the attention," Chad finishes.

After a moment, the nurse inputs, "If he's not taking the medication anymore, then Ben's tolerance shouldn't increase."

Charming sighs, "At least that's solved." before he sees Chad's hesitance. "You're not still taking it, are you?"

"What?" Chad huffs. "No. I'm completely fine now."

Charming sits back in his seat, "You're not even sixteen yet. Your doctor should have informed me."

"That's my fault," Chad excuses. "I didn't want you to worry about me."

"I'm your father," he contradicts. "It's my job to worry about you."

"Is that what fathers are supposed to do?" Ben breathes. "I thought it was their job to inform you on everything you're doing wrong, remind you of their place in the household, and keep you from embarrassing the family. Like I am. Right now." They look at him, and he grins, "It's a good thing I'm not at home, what with not being able to eat and all, because if I were, I'd probably be eating the floorboards right now." He nods, "Sweet mahogany."

"Ben." Chad complains, "That's super grim."

Ben's expression falters, and Charming comments, "You're allowed to talk about this, but the police should be the ones you're talking to."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "So, what? I'm not allowed to make jokes? I have to turn this into some big, serious thing?"

"This is big and serious," Charming evenly expresses.

Ben shakes his head, "It's nothing."

"There's nothing to tell, right?" Chad relays, tears in his eyes. "It's always the same damn thing. You 'fell' or you were being stupid. It's nothing."

"Chad," his father interrupts.

"Why can't you ever just tell the truth?" he continues. "How hard is that?" Ben stares forward, and Chad's jaw drops. "No." He steps towards him, "You don't get to just shut off whenever things get hard."

Charming stands and places a hand to Chad's chest, "Let's give him a minute."

"But I just got back."

"I know," he understands, "but if Ben doesn't want to talk, he doesn't need to. I bet by the time we find something for dinner, he'll be ready to talk about… not about that."

"Right," Chad's frown deepens, before he eyes away from Ben and heads out the door.

* * *

"Hey," Chad announces himself, once he sits back down next to Ben.

"She's back, right?" Ben inquires. "I'm not just hearing things."

Chad eyes over him, "What are you hearing?"

Ben turns his head, before he grimaces, "It's muddled, but it's her voice."

"It is," he confirms. Ben doesn't speak, and he hesitates, "Ben. Your father sort of kicked her out again."

Ben nods, "Good."

Chad questions, "Are you saying that because you don't want her with him or are you saying that because you don't want her with anyone?"

He takes a moment, "She deserves better."

"That's not what I asked."

Ben widens his eyes and slowly shakes his head, "What are you asking?"

"I know you love her," Chad bluntly states. "You've admitted it to me."

"No," he slowly denies. "I think I would remember that."

"You don't remember shit," Chad shouts, and Ben looks down. He takes a breath and softly continues, "You at least remember that I love you?"

Ben meets his greyish blue eyes, "I do."

Chad takes a moment, "If you had the choice to either be my friend or be with your mother, which would you choose?"

Ben examines him, "Do you want to be friends?"

Chad laughs, "No. I was just saying for an example."

"So, I could either force you to be my friend or I could rape my mother?" He shakes his head, "Chad. How is that even a choice?"

"Okay." Chad shifts in his seat, "Let's say it's consensual. Who would you choose?"

He stares at him, "Chad. We're not doing this."

"Because, you'd choose her," he sadly assumes.

"Because, you're telling me to choose between two illegal activities," Ben furiously whispers.

"How's being my friend illegal?" Ben fails to speak, and Chad informs, "I lied to you."

"What do you mean, you lied?"

"Last year, when I got you drunk," he admits, "I didn't just clean wine off you, and you didn't just borrow my jacket."

Ben eyes down, wetting his lips, "Yeah. I know."

"You kissed me, Ben," he reinforces. "Now, I was able to convince myself it was just the alcohol, that it was somehow my fault for whatever. But do you think it's possible that—"

"Chad," he faces him. "I keep telling you, I'm not like that."

"But you did it," he says again.

"You were my best friend, Chad," he addresses, "and lips aren't different from a girl to guy. I wouldn't expect it to be gross." He eyes over him, "You were probably just there."

* * *

"First, you become Ben's primary contact," Ella relays, "and now you're offering his mother to stay here with you?"

"With us," Charming corrects.

"And if I don't want her here?"

He takes a moment, "Then I suppose she can call Fairy Godmother in the morning and ask to stay with her." He pauses, "But, Ella, why wouldn't you want her here?"

She sits next to him, "You think of her child as your own, and now you're helping her with her situation."

"Are you saying I shouldn't be helping her?" he asks.

"She's a damsel in distress," Ella addresses. "She's going to cling to whoever rescues her. You have to know that."

Charming contemplates, "I don't know if I'm even her type."

"Because, you're nice," she points out.

"Because, I'm not a Viking," Charming whispers. "I'm not the big, hairy man she married. I think she's far more likely to be with one of those werewolf types than me."

"But those creatures aren't rescuing her," she pinpoints. "You are, and she's too smart to ignore a nice guy after everything she's been through."

"I can handle her," Charming moves on, before he sees her hesitance. "Unless I'm the one you're having trouble trusting."

Ella breathes, "When you rescued me, you married me."

"But I wanted to marry you before I even knew your situation," he negates. "Ella. I promise that I can help Belle and still remain faithful to you."

"Can you tell me you're not attracted to her?" she requests.

Charming carefully answers, "If there are any qualities I find attractive in Belle, they're the same things I see in you." He takes her hand, "You're kind, caring, and resilient. I'm not going to fall for another woman with those traits, because I already have them with you."

"Even if it makes sense to be with her, if you're taking care of her son?" she inquires.

"We have a son," Charming counters, "and I have no intention to leave either of you."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 03/18/2020


	14. That Makes it Okay

**That Makes it Okay **

**(Saturday Morning, August 3****rd****)**

After they enter the restroom, Chad smiles, "Let me help you with that."

When he starts unbuttoning his shirt, Ben complains, "I'm such a klutz."

Chad unsurely says, "Yeah. And to think, if you had my good looks, that would almost make up for that."

Ben pouts, "You don't think I have good looks?"

"Well, it's not like you need to when you taste so good," he mends.

"Huh?"

"Red wine," Chad clarifies, before moves in and sucks the sticky substance away. Ben doesn't say anything, and he makes his way back up, wiping the saliva off with the dry part of the shirt.

"I'm not going to taste good anymore," Ben frowns.

Chad faces him, "You're so cute when you're insecure." before he places his thumb in Ben's waistband. Ben slowly kisses him, places his hands on his shoulders, and starts sucking on his neck. The door creeks, and Chad pushes Ben off.

"What do we have here?" he saunters in with a curious grin.

"No," Chad backs away. "This… It didn't happen like this."

The black-haired man moves forward, "Chad. Are you alright?"

He tries to move further back, but his shoe's stuck to the floor. He moves his other foot to try to get his foot free, but he feels it stick to the glob of gum on the floor. He sees him step in front of him, but he can't move. He can't move his legs. He widens his eyes at Ben and pleads, "Ben. Stop him."

Ben offers a confused expression, "But he's good guy."

After he kneels, Chad sees the door open, "William. Help me."

His eyes move to the professor unbuttoning Chad's pants, "Looks like he already is."

"This isn't helping," Chad voices, as the cold air meets his skin.

Brendan walks in, "You know, you should be glad you have so many people who care about you. Not everyone's so lucky."

The wetness surrounds him, and Chad gasps. He sits up, wipes the sweat and tears from his face, before he reaches in the drawer for his prescription. All that matters is that he has it. He crushes it, it fills his system, and that one pill solves everything.

* * *

The next time Chad opens his eyes, only an hour has passed; however, the relief is gone. He turns, but he can't sleep. He gets to his feet. He might as well get something to eat. He enters the hall, and the lights turn on. He goes down the stairs, enters the gallery, and those lights turn on. He hikes across and into the next area, before he opens the double doors to the dining hall. The lights are already on. Someone's awake. He tracks to the other end, finds the hidden door, and enters the kitchen. He sees her sitting by the island counters, "Belle?"

She smiles, "Late night or early morning?"

He glances down, "I couldn't sleep."

She sighs, "Well, that makes two of us." before she nods him over. "Come on. I made peppermint tea." Chad walks over and sits across from her, before she pours him a cup.

"Thanks," he murmurs.

"Not an issue," she reassures. "Would you like to tell me what's keeping you up?"

"Nightmares," he settles.

"About?" she inquires.

He hesitates, "It's always the same. I can't move my legs, and… something bad happens. I can never get away."

"You're powerless," she recognizes.

He faces her, "Yes." and she nods. "Why are you up?"

"Well," she thinks, "between Adam and Ben, it's always just been easier to stay up a little longer."

Chad's eyebrows furrow, "Are you still up from yesterday?"

She clutches her cup, "I admit I'm a bit restless." before she checks her watch. "If I went to sleep now, I might get five hours in before I have to get ready to head to the hospital."

"Adam's hurt you, hasn't he?" Chad asks.

"He's not well," she excuses. "He would never want to hurt anyone. He just has a hard time thinking ahead and managing his emotions. Anger is especially hard for him."

"Why haven't you come forward about it?"

She takes a sip, "It's simple, really. I love him."

"So, you're not afraid of him?" Chad assumes.

She half laughs, "I never said that."

He takes a minute, "If you didn't love him, would you turn him in?"

"He's my husband," Belle bypasses.

"What if it was someone else?" he questions. "Would you tell them to stay quiet too?"

"Chad," she smiles. "Don't think I don't know what this is about."

He sits back, "What?"

"You're trying to get my permission to turn Ben into the authorities," she explains, and he eyes down. "But I can't make that decision for you. It has to be you who does it."

Chad faces her, "Why can't you just tell me the right thing to do?"

"Because," she giggles, "assault and abuse, it's different for everyone. Each person has a different story. I can't tell a wife that she shouldn't turn her husband in for rape, I can't tell Mal that she should keep her time on the Isle secret, and I cannot tell you that turning in your best friend wouldn't change things between the two of you. Only you know what's right."

Chad frowns, "I've tried to bring it up before, but the second I even started to suggest it… no one really believed me."

"They'll believe you now." She puts forth, "Ben's admitted everything on camera. If you do decide to turn him in, he would be found guilty."

Chad eyes away, "Right."

* * *

When Chad and his dad enter the hospital room, Ben continues to stare at the door, "Where's my mother?"

After they sit down and Charming fails to answer, Chad faces Ben, "She went back to the castle. He called her last night."

Ben eyes down, "So, she chose him." before he holds his breath and gulps.

"No matter your father's trespasses," Charming comments, "he's still her husband."

Ben's voice shakes, "And that makes it okay?"

"She loves him," he justifies.

"What am I?" he disbelieves.

"You're her son." Ben looks away, shaking his head. "Which means she also loves you very much, but you're not the person she chose to spend the rest of her life with."

As the tears escape his eyes, Ben points to his backpack, "My bag."

Chad grabs it, and Charming continues, "It's your mother's job to prepare you for the world, and you're approaching adulthood. You're not meant to see her every day."

Chad gives Ben the bag and fumes, "Dad. Would you just quit it?"

"I'm just trying to explain it," he defends.

"He already knows it," Chad argues. "So, what? You think that makes it easy or some shit?" He catches Ben take a soda out, "Hey." Ben's eyes widen at him, before they shift and Chad opens his hand. "Give it to me."

Ben holds it closer, "No. It's mine."

"I'm not going to drink it, Ben." Chad grabs the backpack, "I'll just put it…" He sees the tin and pulls out the plastic bag, "What the hell is this?"

Ben scratches his nose, "Well, uh, it's soda."

Chad shakes it, and the aluminum crash, "When the hell did you drink seven cans?"

He awkwardly smiles, "That's a lot less than a normally drink."

"Give me the soda, Ben."

Ben eyes from it to him, "No."

Chad shakes his head, stands from the chair, and charges out of the room. Charming puts up a finger, "Give me a minute." before he points to the soda. "Don't drink that."

When Charming enters the hall, he finds him with folded arms, "Chad."

"What?" he turns to him. "You going to make some stupid excuse of why he's acting like… like…"

"He's acting like you when you were five," his father nods.

Chad huffs, placing his fingertips to his chest, "Me? No. I never acted like that when I was five."

"You did," Charming reassures, "which is why you need to let me handle this."

"Fine," he agrees. "If you stop treating him like an idiot. He knows his feelings are unacceptable, but when the person you love is taking the side of someone who hurt you—"

"Chad," he places a hand on his shoulder. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"What?" He denies, "No."

"Do you think I'm taking Ben's side over yours?"

"This isn't about that," he stammers. "This isn't about—Why does everything have to be about me? It's not. This is about Ben."

"What about Ben?"

"That he's having hard time," Chad clarifies. "He knows he's suffering. He doesn't need to be told there's some whole, grand reason for it."

"Okay. I understand." Chad settles some, and he asks, "Are you sure there's nothing you need to discuss with me?"

Chad frowns, "I'm sure you need to check on Ben, before he drinks that soda."

"I told him not to," he informs.

Chad's brows furrow, "Did I ever listen to you when I was five?"

Charming sighs, before he heads back into the room and sees Ben drinking from the soda can, "I told you to give me a minute."

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Which means you gave me one."

He strides over and sits back in his seat, "Ben. You can't drink that."

"Really?" he questions. "Because it's looking a lot like I am."

"You have a hole in your stomach," he reminds him. "What do you think drinking all that acid is going to do to it?"

"Maybe I'll die," he decides, before he takes another drink.

"Ben," he waits for him to face him. "Give me the soda."

"Why should I?"

"Because," he negotiates, "if you give me the soda now, I'll get you a whole new case when you get out of here."

Ben takes a moment, "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Charming confirms, and Ben glances at the can before handing it to him. "Do you have any more?"

He hums, "Maybe one. In my backpack."

Charming sets the soda aside and searches the bag, "Well, I don't see any."

"How long am I here for?"

He feels around the larger pocket, "Your doctors said at least the week." before he zips it back up and puts it down.

"So, four more days," Ben counts. "I don't know if I can go that long."

"You can live without soda," Charming comments.

"But it's here when no one else is."

"I'm here," he mentions.

Ben eyes down, "Is my mother coming at all today or…"

"I know she wants to be here."

He tears up, "She always wants to be here." before he coughs. He takes a breath, and he coughs harder.

"Ben?" Charming concerns. Ben swallows the spit, but he keeps coughing the foam back up. He points the counters, and Charming goes to grab the trash basket from beneath the sink.

When he sets it next to him, Ben spits the bubbles into the garbage. "Ugh."

A nurse peeks into the room, "Is everything okay in here?"

"He had a carbonated drink," Charming explains. "It didn't stay down well."

"What kind of drink?" she asks.

"A soda," he answers, and she walks up to the basket. "How odd?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, it does seem the carbonation was the main issue," she explains, before she looks at Ben. "Do you have any stomach pain?"

"There's a tube in it," he frowns.

"Of course." She takes the thermometer from the wall, "Can you take this for me?" Ben grabs it with his mouth and watches as the number rockets up. It beeps, and she comments, "That's pretty high."

"It's supposed to be high," Ben negates.

Charming corrects, "It's supposed to be at a hundred and one. This is a hundred and three." He looks at the nurse, "What does it mean?"

"It means I just got upset," Ben answers. "I'm not allowed to have feelings or I die."

"He's been having a hard time," Charming apologizes.

"Would you like me to ask if we can increase his dose?" she suggests.

"I want Mal," Ben interrupts.

Charming hesitates, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"She's comforting," Ben insists.

"You might want to hold off on that," the nurse says, as she looks through his chart. "You're scheduled for another feeding in thirty minutes."

"But I just had one when I woke up last night," Ben complains.

"They have a note about weight gain," she explains. "It says you've lost weight just from the time you've been here with us."

"How is that possible?" Charming worries.

She takes a moment, "Well, meat is a very calorie dense food. Most carnivores are meant to have up to three thousand calories a day, more if they're active. A feeding tube uses a thousand and five hundred calories per serving. Giving him two servings a day should help maintain his weight."

"You mean add weight," Ben contradicts, "if all I'm doing is sitting here."

"That's a good thing. You're already ten pounds underweight," she frowns. "You can't afford to lose any more."

"So, I have to gain weight, and I'm not even allowed to taste anything?"

When she fails to respond, Charming questions, "When can he start actually eating things?"

She shakes her head, "He would have to start with broth and other liquids. He would still need to use the feeding tube, until he makes his way back to eating more complex foods."

"Am I allowed broth now?" Ben inquires.

"You might be allowed," she answers.

His brows raise, "Could I have broth instead of another feeding?"

"The calorie count wouldn't make up for it," she unsurely says, "but if you want it—"

"Forget it," Ben's frown deepens.

"You're really expecting him to eat three thousand calories?" Chad voices from the doorway, before he enters the room.

The nurse turns to him, "Eventually."

"Every day?" Chad shakes his head, "You're insane if you think he can do that."

"Chad," Ben interrupts. "I can speak for myself."

"No." He asserts, "Ben doesn't control when he eats. If you think you can tell him to set three or four hours aside just to eat, then you're forgetting he's the fucking king."

"This is about health," she reminds him, "and if the king can't find the time to eat, then he needs to consider keeping the tube in permanently."

"Chad's just trying to say I don't eat normally." Ben gets her attention, "I'll eat an entire pizza while watching a movie, but I don't take time out of my day to eat just to eat."

"That's not very consistent," she disapproves.

"Food is a waste of time," Ben puts forth. "I have to want to do it. I have to have a reason to do it."

"The reason is to live," she proclaims.

"I've tried to kill myself half a dozen times," Ben divulges. "Despite that, I'm still alive. I think I'm doing just fine."


	15. Carnivorous Minds

**Carnivorous Minds **

**(Sunday Morning, August 4****th****)**

"Now, let's bring in our star guest of the day—researcher and best-selling author Professor Hawthorne." Chad turns to the TV, the clean shirt slips from his fingers, and when he sees the dark-haired man, he slowly sits on the bed. "Professor Hawthorne's new book _Carnivorous Minds_ compiles the interviews he's had with people infected with the acuti virus and the doctors who treat them. Professor, I think we're all wondering what prompted you to dig into this controversial subject."

"It's simple, really," he smiles. "I teach at a private school, where the assumption is that everyone there is of royal blood. Everyone there is a child of God and every bit as pure as the concept of goodness that governs this nation. No one would assume any of these high-profile subjects are infected with the virus, but the nurses who work at the school can confirm otherwise. Carnivores are everywhere, and the virus does not discriminate based on wealth nor title."

"So, your goal is to bring that to the light?" she addresses.

"On the contrary." He shifts in his seat, "The reason why it's important to know high-profile people can suffer from the virus is because it shows people with the virus can live perfectly normal lives. They are not the monsters people think they are. These so-called predators may live anywhere, but they can be just as kind and honorable as the rest of us."

"Chad?" his father calls, before he watches the door open. "Why aren't you ready?"

Chad frowns back at the television, "I guess I got caught up in it."

"Carnivores are often frightened by the way society sees them," Hawthorne addresses. "This fear of how people may react to their condition can prevent them from seeking medical help or government programs. Half of the carnivores in Cliffside Penitentiary are only there due to accidental assaults and killings—killings that could have been avoided had they felt safe enough to seek the help they needed in the first place."

"This is all in a book?" Charming inquires.

"He's a brilliant man," Chad solemnly agrees, before he shuts off the TV. "Give me five minutes, please."

His father nods, "We'll be waiting in the car."

After the door shuts, Chad sniffles, and the tears escape his eyes. He moves over to his bedside table and steals the pills from the drawer. He crushes it and takes it into his nose, but there's still this hole. A predator living in plain sight, of course he would endorse that kind of thing. Why wouldn't he?

* * *

"It must have fallen out," Ben smiles.

"Fallen out?" the nurse doubts. "And how long ago would that have been?"

Ben sighs, "Sometime after visiting hours last night?"

Charming walks into the room, "What's going on here?"

The nurse turns to him, "King Ben's removed his feeding tube."

"Can't you just put it back in?" Chad questions.

"After ten hours?" her eyebrows raise. "Not without surgery."

"He can't have another surgery," Charming comments. "He hasn't responded to any of the medication."

She nods, "I will be back momentarily."

Chad glares at Ben, "Why the fuck would you take your tube out?"

Ben lifts a shoulder, "It was in the way."

"In the way of what?" Chad accuses, "Getting your mom here?"

"Chad," his father starts.

"No," Chad rejects. "He was asking about his mom all day yesterday, and now he's taking his tube out? He's clearly trying to get her attention."

Charming faces him, "Ben?"

"For that to work," he defends, "she would have to care." He crosses his arms, "Which she clearly doesn't if she's not answering her phone."

"You shouldn't have to sacrifice your health to get your mother's attention," Charming opinionates.

"My health was already at risk," Ben reminds him. "She didn't care then either."

"Are you blind?" Chad inputs. "Or are you just a moron? She was already here."

"Because the police brought her," Ben pinpoints. "They made her come see me."

"Ben," Charming addresses, "your mother does love you."

"Not as much as I love her," Ben rejects.

"Didn't you just get back together with Mal?" Chad angers. "What? You couldn't even wait twelve hours to try to kill yourself? Is being with her just that devastating?"

Ben eyes away, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you're skinny as hell," Chad affirms, "and you're going to lose even more weight now that you've uncorked yourself."

Ben's eyes narrow at him, mouth agape, "What the shit are you even saying?"

Chad moves towards him, "I'm saying that you've just turned yourself into a bag of bones." before he waves a finger in front of him. "And if you think anyone's going to—" Ben grabs his wrist and pulls him forward. "Ben." He shakily smiles, "Buddy, let go of me. Please."

Charming steps towards them, "Ben. Let go." Chad glances from Ben to the higher heartbeat on the monitor, as Ben glances from Chad to Charming. "He's your friend, and we don't eat friends. Do you understand?" Ben eyes between them again, and Chad watches as the heartrate lowers. "Let go of him."

When Ben loosens his grip, Chad immediately backs away, "I'm sorry. I forgot to put on the cologne."

"It's fine." His father places a hand on Chad's shoulder, "I didn't think to have you wear a sweatshirt either."

Chad notices Ben's agitated state, "Dad. I don't think he's okay."

The nurse comes back in, sets the bowl of ice chips on the tray, and slides the stand towards Ben, "Start with this, and we'll get you some broth in an hour." The nurse notices their expressions. "Is something wrong?"

Chad points to the monitor, "I think there was a, uh, spike in his readings."

She examines it and nods, "They are a little high. Could just be from excitement, though, from the argument earlier."

Charming notices Ben bite the ice, "When is he getting real food?"

"We want to be able to quicken his recovery process, given his weight," the nurse answers, "but we still need to see how his stomach handles things. That's why we're starting with the ice. If he experiences any pain from that, he might have not healed from the tube, yet."

"Yes." Charming continues, "But when can he have real food?"

"Today will be broth and protein shakes," she answers. "Tomorrow we'll try soft foods like gelatin, yogurt, and smashed potatoes."

"That doesn't really sound like meat," Charming concerns.

"If blood is a part of his diet," she supplies, "it can be reintroduced at that time."

He takes a moment, "Ben doesn't really have a donor."

"That's not an issue," she reassures.

"And then actual meat, right?" he worries.

"Lunchmeat," she nods, "but, unfortunately, steak will be the last thing he can eat."

Charming eyes over Ben, before he whispers to her, "Can I talk to you outside?"

"Of course."

He turns back to Chad, "You too. Come on."

When they exit the room, Charming comments, "I'm concerned about how the lack of food is affecting his mind."

"You've read Professor Hawthorne's new book," she assumes.

"What?"

"I don't blame you." She smiles, "It's actually pretty accurate and credible."

"I don't know what's in the book," Charming confesses. "All I know is that he just had a very predatory response. How much longer can he keep himself together for?"

"We're doing all we can," she frowns. "So, unless you feel he needs to be handcuffed to the bed, I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do."

* * *

"Being different is hard," Hawthorne comments, "and when the thing you're hiding is such a big part of who you are, it can cause real psychological harm. Imagine hearing every day from those closest to you about how unacceptable your very being is. The amount of anxiety and depression that can stem from that, my greatest hope is that I can make people see that we were all created equally."

Chad takes the remote, and Ben complains, "Hey. I was watching that."

"It's in English," he protests. "I bet you didn't even understand half of it."

"I was still watching it," Ben sadly replies.

"It's been playing all day," Chad irritably responds. "I think three times' enough."

Ben's brows furrow, "You were barely even here."

"I find his voice annoying," Chad defends.

Ben frowns at Charming, "When's Mother coming?"

"Well, Ben," he starts. "You see—"

"She's not coming," Ben finishes.

Charming watches him set the shake down and move the tray away, "Ben."

"Go," he asserts.

"She just can't tonight."

Ben widens his glossy eyes at him, "I want to be alone."

Charming whispers, "Okay. We'll see you tomorrow."


	16. Not for This World

**Not for This World **

**(Monday Morning, August 5****th****)**

"Chad," his father addresses. "What do you want?"

"I can't believe we left him alone with her," he voices.

Charming smiles, "Just start him off with an iced green tea."

After the waiter leaves, Chad reinforces, "He's defenseless against her."

"It's one hour, Chad," he reassures, "and Ben didn't seem to mind her company."

"What happened to age limits and position of power," he argues.

"I still believe that what Belle's doing is wrong," Charming starts.

"If you say 'but'," Chad counters, "it will completely destroy your first position."

"If Belle is serious about making things right with Ben," he debates, "then he could use her emotional support right now."

"We're his emotional support," Chad grits his teeth. "She's a predator."

"She would say the same thing about Ben," he evenly replies. "Is the relationship healthy? No, but half of the time Belle's the nonconsenting party, not Ben." The waiter sets the drinks in front of them, and Charming directs, "Do you want your grilled-chicken salad?"

"She's betrayed him too many times for us to trust her with him," Chad asserts.

Charming faces the waiter, "A grilled chicken salad, low oil and dressing on the side. Give us something low fat and low calorie for dessert." The waiter bows before leaving, and he turns back to him, "Chad. What's this really about?"

"Belle's a predator," he repeats. "Okay? And just because Ben can't talk about it, doesn't mean that he's okay with it."

His father folds his hands, "Has Ben told you something?"

"No," Chad glances down.

"Then how do you know?"

"I just know," Chad enforces, and his father looks away. "He's not talking."

"Ben's a quiet person," he reasons.

"Why can't you just tell?" Chad frustrates. "Don't you feel how wrong it is? Doesn't it just bring back…"

After he trails off, his father questions, "Bring back what?"

Chad frowns, "Those documentaries and lifetime movies. Doesn't the feeling of this match what they were trying to portray in those?"

"Movies that are based on truth are still only movies." His father explains, "They manipulate your feelings with music to try to get you to understand how the victim felt, but Ben's not playing any music right now. And even if he were to sit at a piano, we still wouldn't know the music's purpose."

"Of course, you don't get it," Chad murmurs, before he stands from his seat.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," Chad answers, before he passes through the archway, makes his way through the main area, and finds the bathroom. He hides in an empty stall just as the tears stream from his eyes. He takes the pills from his pocket and takes two out. He's almost out, but his heart is racing, he can't breathe right, and this is a depressant. It will help. He crushes them, takes the cut straw from the bottle, and inhales the powder.

* * *

When the frozen yogurt is set in front of them, Chad sniffles. His father comments, "You got quiet. Are you feeling well?"

"Yeah." He picks up his spoon, "Just worn out." He sees the drop of red fall onto the white sphere. He sets the spoon down and picks up the cloth napkin.

Charming concerns, "That's been happening a lot lately."

"It's the dry season," Chad excuses.

"Which is why you've been nested in the castle with those fancy air conditioners with the humidity settings," he dismisses. "And as of late you've spent far more time visiting Ben in the hospital than being out in the heat."

Chad groans, "What's your point?"

"Have you been getting headaches?" Chad stares at him, and he divulges, "I'm worried. Between the nosebleeds and your worsened mood swings, it could be a sign."

Chad cautiously questions, "A sign of what?" He notices his hesitance, "Dad. You don't think I have, like, a tumor or something?"

"Maybe it is just the weather," his father backtracks. "Maybe you've just become more of your own person and opinionated in certain matters."

"But?" he prompts.

"When we get back to the hospital," he answers, "I'd like to make an appointment for you to get checked out."

Chad shakes his head, "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Cancer can sneak up on someone," his father warns. "It's not something you feel, until it's too late." Chad nods, and he informs, "I'll let you know when the appointment is."

Chad closes his eyes and sighs, "Dad."

"Yes?"

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself speechless. He lowers his gaze and scratches his nose, "Just, uh, thank you." He faces him again, "For caring so much."

He smiles, "I love you."

Chad smiles in return, "I love you too." before his expression slips and he watches the blood slide down the frozen desert.

"We can get you a different one," his father offers.

"No," Chad frowns. "I've, uh, lost my appetite."

* * *

Chad freezes at the hospital room door, and his father turns towards him, "Chad. Something wrong?"

"She's still in there," he complains.

Charming glances inside, before he takes a breath and faces him, "Okay. Uh, why don't you take a lap around the halls. You're still trying to lose five pounds for tryouts, right?"

"Yeah," he recalls.

"I'll try to have her out of there by the end of the hour," he reassures.

"Thanks." His father pats his shoulder before entering the room, and Chad notices the young, brunette nurse leave the storage room. It's the same storage room they got the morphine for Ben, back before they found he had an inexplicable tolerance for it—a tolerance that definitely has nothing to do Ben trying to suck the life out of him that once, two, or half a dozen times. He ruffles his hair, smiling as the nurse walks by. If Ben doesn't remember playing cat and mouse with him, then he doesn't need to either.

There should be morphine in pill form in there. He has to get it, but it requires a keycard. Chad watches the nurse walk into the other room, and he glances around the sparse hall before following her. He hears the old man, "I'm not for this world."

"I'm sure your wife will be here soon," she reassures.

"She's not coming." He coughs, "Just like yesterday and last week and last month." He coughs again, and there's a slurping sound. "Thank you."

"Maybe she just needs time," the nurse offers.

"I gave her time." He groans, "I'm in so much pain, but she's still waiting on a miracle from the almighty Lord. I—" He takes a deep breath, "I just need this to be over."

The nurse reminds him, "There was a special wine you wanted her to bring. Your last moments should be blissful. You should wait for her."

He takes a minute, "Get her here. Tell her that I'm going either way."

"Yes, Mr. Peterson." She hesitates, "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Be quick," he requests.

"Of course," she agrees. The footsteps slowly become louder, and as Chad sees her hair, he steps forward.

"Oh. Sorry," he apologizes.

"It's okay." Her blue eyes meet him, "Prince Chad?"

He nods to the room, "How's Peterson doing today?"

She smiles, "How do you know his name?"

"I've been around." He clarifies, "You know, Ben's been here a lot, and I've been visiting him. So—"

"Sorry," she interrupts. "It's important I make that call for him."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Of course." She walks over to the desk, and Chad watches as she picks up the landline. Chad rubs the back of his neck and stretches his sore shoulder, before he walks over to her. She hangs up the phone, and he comments, "I'd just like to say sorry again for bumping into you. I guess, I was stuck in my head."

She takes a moment, "You said you were here to see King Ben? What are you doing wandering the halls?"

"His mother's here," he cringes. "It's not exactly the kind of relationship I want to watch, and I'm guessing she's not going to leave until Adam gets out of jail. Which, I'm not really looking forward to see him here either."

"King Adam's in jail?" her eyebrows raise.

"It's a hold," he explains. "The police were hoping they could use the time to prove that he's been abusing Ben, but they haven't found any proof." He starts to cry, "I just wish he'd come forward, but with his health problems, he doesn't think he has the right to break up his parents' marriage like that. And his mother is actually grateful that she ended up with someone as nice as him, so now he's going to be free and Ben…"

He gulps, and the nurse recognizes, "It's hard knowing there's nothing permanent you can do, but sometimes being there is all someone needs." He eyes over her, moves in, and she presses him away. "Prince Chad."

"I'm sorry." He sniffles, "I was just hoping for a distraction." She doesn't speak, and he tries to smile, "You know, I've never done anything in a closet before. I hear it's supposed to be exciting or some shit."

"I'm older than you," she reminds him.

He suggests, "No one has to know."

"You're not even sixteen," she whispers.

"I turn sixteen in November." Chad counters, "And I've had sex before. It's not like you'd be stealing my innocence." She looks away, and he reaches for her cheek, "It's good for stress. Your day doesn't seem much better than mine."

She removes his hand from her cheek and glances around, "Follow me. Quick." He runs with him, they hide in the custodian closet, and she turns on the hanging light. "So—"

Chad kisses her, moves his hands under her shift, and lifts the top over her head. He smiles at her, as he moves the clothing behind him, tucks her badge into his back pocket, and tosses the scrub shirt to the floor. He removes his shirt, she eyes over him, and he takes a condemn out of his front pocket, "I'm ready if you are."

"Yes," she consents, and he unbuttons his pants.

* * *

After they reenter the hall and she turns away, his smile falls. He heads to the end of the hall, peeks around, and swipes the nurse's ID. The censor lights green, and Chad enters. He sighs at the metal shelve stacks towering the white wall, and there's dozens of containers on each shelf; however, they're labeled, and that should make this painless. At least, it will be once he finds the oxycodone. He searches the clear containers for the label, and after what feels like forever, he finally finds it. He takes off the lid, and the container is lined with unprescribed bottles. He takes one into his pocket, puts the lid back on, and then sets it back. One bottle won't last him very long, and there's no way he's getting this opportunity again.

Chad takes the container, lifts the lid, and grabs two more. This should be enough to get him by, until he can finally quit. He puts the container back and feels his pockets. If he adds any more to them, he'll get caught. His eyes lower. No. He's not one of those idiots who end up in the hospital for shoving illegal things up their ass, and two bottles wouldn't fit, anyway. He'd have to take them out, find a bag, and then the heat from his rectum would likely cause them to melt and induce an overdose. No. He's not that stupid. He unbuttons his pants. It will be a lot safer to just put the bottles in his underwear. He maneuvers them to either side of his member. No one will see. No one will want to see. He's a fifteen-year-old royal. What are they going to do, strip-search him? "I don't think so." He rebuttons his pants, and he walks to the supply door; however, the bottles rub against him as he walks. He'd better take a seat or –better yet—get home. He sneaks back into the hall and makes it over to Ben's room.

"Chad," his father frowns. "What's wrong?"

"I've changed my mind," he hurries. "I want to go home."

"You're not staying?" Ben sadly asks.

He tears his eyes from Ben, "I'm not feeling well."

"Are you okay?"

"I just want to go home," he repeats.

Ben notices Charming contemplate, "It's okay. You can go."

He looks at him, "Your father gets released today. What if he comes here?"

Ben's eyes lower, "Then you're not going to be much for fighting him off." before he faces him. "It's okay. Chad seems stressed. Maybe you can actually help him."

Belle reassures, "Don't worry. Adam wouldn't try anything in public."

Charming stands from his seat, "Adam doesn't need to try anything for someone to get hurt. His words are enough." He looks at Ben and places a hand on his shoulder, "Call me if anything happens."

"Yeah," Ben agrees.

"Okay," Charming nods, before he walks over to Chad. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Sure, it was smart to hide the bottles in his underwear instead of shoving the individual pills in his ass, but it would have been even smarter to pour the pills out of the bottles and carry them in his pocket. They all might have fit then, and he wouldn't have to deal with the smooth plastic incapsulating him. You would think after his encounter earlier that he wouldn't be so sensitive to this, but he's a whore. God gave him a healthy body, and now he's gone and sold it for a drug that will eventually destroy it. He takes a shaky breath, as tears intrude his eyes. That's probably why Hawthorne thought he was helping him. Chad must have said or done something to make him think he needed him. It's not like any other students have had this problem.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" his father prompts.

He shakes his head, "I'm sorry. My emotions are all over the place today."

He takes a moment, "I scheduled you an appointment tomorrow morning for an MRI."

"I really don't think I'm sick," Chad confesses. "I'm just messed up."

"I'm not putting a teenager on medication for emotional control," he inputs.

Chad looks at him, "What? Do you think I have emotional problems?"

"No." His father examines, "You're still young. You need time to figure out how to manage your emotions. Kids shouldn't be getting put on medication for that. It would only hinder them in the long-run."

Chad contemplates, "Why do my classmates behave better than I do?"

Charming considers, "I would argue that you behave better than Ben does."

"Ben's been abused," Chad counters. "What's my excuse?"

"Everyone has problems, Chad." His father explains, "Most people are just taught to keep it to themselves. I raised you to be honest so that we could solve your problems together rather than have you suffer them on your own."

Chad thinks, "You mean, like having sex with a nurse in the janitor's closet?"

"Is that why you're upset?" He looks at him, "Are you okay?"

"Keep driving," Chad frustrates. "I want to go home." He picks his speed back up, and Chad breathes. "Yeah. I'm fine. I was the one who talked her up and supplied the condom."

"How old was she?"

"I don't know," he grumbles. "Seventeen?"

"No nurse is seventeen," he dismisses.

"Then nineteen," Chad offers. "Or twenty-one. She didn't look that old."

"Girls are going to look younger without makeup." He puts forth, "That's something you're going to have to watch for when you're older. A fifteen-year-old girl could convince you she's over eighteen if she wears makeup and dresses the right way. You don't want to get yourself into that kind of trouble."

Chad turns to him, "And what makes you think I'm going to be in that kind of situation?"

"It could happen to anyone," he easily answers. "That nurse. Even if she is only seventeen, she could still get in trouble for you being under sixteen."

"I chose to have sex with her," he enforces.

"And I believe you," his father agrees. "I'm just saying it's something to watch for."

"I didn't feel anything." He explains, "I thought she was hot… and it felt good, but I only did it because she was there. I wouldn't care if I never saw her again."

"Sex will only feel like anything if you already have a connection with the person."

"But I can't connect with girls." Chad huffs, "So, what? I'm supposed to be alone for the rest of my life?"

"Is there really no one you've found interesting?" he doubts.

Chad shakes his head, "Not really."

His father settles, "Maybe you're just too young. I would suggest that you hold off on sex, until you can make that emotional connection."

"Suggest?"

He hesitates, "There's health benefits to sex. You need to decide whether your psychological or spiritual and emotional wellbeing is more important."

"I still don't understand."

His father parks in front of the castle, before he faces him, "There's a primal urge that when accepted can help you psychologically. Sex is like food. Our bodies recognize it as something we need to live and continue flourishment of mankind. That's why we like it. However, sex also affects a person emotionally. It's something given to us by God to help us create emotional intimacy. My concern is that if you keep having casual sex, then you won't be able to form that bond with anyone. It might leave you feeling lonely and damage your spiritual health as a whole."

Chad glances down, "What if I can never connect with a girl?"

He eyes away, "Let's just pray that this is just a steppingstone and that one day you will."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 05/26/2020


	17. Blasphemy

**Blasphemy **

**(Monday Night, August 5****th****)**

Chad throws the coin into the fountain and whispers, "Please, make me good and pure."

"That's your problem."

He turns around and sees the long-haired boy, "Jay?"

"You have all that money and power," he points out, "but, I guess, that doesn't buy a soul. It must be true: it's easier for a camel to run its eye through a needle than for a wealthy man to enter the kingdom of God." He picks up a rock the size of his hand, "Why couldn't you have just given it up like I did?"

"I'm trying," Chad disbelieves.

"It's too late."

He eyes the large rock and backs against the well, "What are you doing?"

"You shall not lie with a male as with a woman. It is an abomination." Jay points to him and yells, "This man is a sodomite." before he raises his rock and the crowd gathers. "And he shall surely be put to death."

The people cheer, Chad flinches at the raised rock, and a voice erupts, "Only those who are faultless have the right to pass judgment upon others." He watches the black-haired man cut through the crowd, and Jay turns to him. "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone."

After the people lower their stones, Jay drops his, and he charges away. Chad stares at him, "What are you doing here?"

"I just saved your life," the scholar preaches. "Is that how you thank me?"

Chad takes a moment, "Thank you, I guess."

He approaches him, "It's a shame people can find such natural things as a threat."

"Yeah," Chad looks down, and when he eyes up, Hawthorne is inches away.

"Why would God make something so pleasurable a sin?" He questions, "How can He put us on this Earth, knowing we will feel the way we feel, and then tell us He's going to lock us in His fire-filled basement for eternity if we even so much as think about acting on it?"

"Um," Chad uncomfortably comments.

"You seem stressed," he notices, before Chad feels the hand on his thigh. "Let me help you." He looks around, but no one's there. How can such a public place not have anyone around? There were a dozen people here just a moment ago. A woman steps outside to toss the waste into the ditch, but she moves back inside just as he opens his mouth. He gulps, as he clutches the edge of the well. "And that would be stress leaving the body." Chad narrows his eyes, and Hawthorne ploys, "Oh. And, obviously, don't tell anyone about this. We wouldn't want you to get into trouble, now, would we?" Chad stares at him, before Hawthorne walks away.

After he leaves, Ben emerges from the shadows, "Chad. What were you doing?"

"I," he stutters, before his brows furrow. "Nothing."

"I saw you," he proclaims. "Don't you know that fornicators, homosexuals, and male prostitutes cannot inherit the kingdom of God?"

"You don't believe in God," Chad challenges.

"He's a demon," Audrey alleges, as she walks up to him. "You're human—God's creation—and you're obligated to do as he says."

Ben sighs, "It's against the law. You should be quiet about it, don't you think?"  
Chad eyes between them, his heart speeding up, "I didn't ask him to do it."

"But you let him," Audrey accuses.

"I didn't want him to," Chad insists, before he starts to cry.

"I don't understand," Ben awkwardly smiles. "Are you saying he preyed on you?"

Chad fails to speak, and Audrey falters, "If that's true, we need to tell someone."

"No," Chad's eyes widen.

"Chad," Ben tries to reason.

"He's too powerful," Chad protests. "Everyone looks up to him. They think he's some kind of embodiment of God. No one's going to believe he's done anything wrong."

"We believe you," Ben points out.

"Do you?" Chad backlashes, before he purses his lips. "'Cause, I'm just some royal brat with an unearned sense of entitlement." He grins, "I'm probably doing this for attention."

"There's someone we can trust," Ben says, as he turns to Audrey.

She agrees, "The reverend can help."

"The reverend?" Chad questions.

Audrey answers, "Mother Lucinda."

"Someone need me?" a woman voices, and Chad sees Fairy Godmother walk towards them. "Audrey, Chad, and Ben. Do I need to separate you three again?"

"Mother," Audrey addresses. "Chad needs to tell you something."

"Me?" Chad laughs, "No. I don't have—"

"Chad," Ben frustrates. "Just tell the truth."

He furrows his brows at him, "You tell the truth." and Ben's expression softens.

She looks from Ben to him, "Chad. What's going on?"

When he fails to answer, Audrey reveals, "Christian touched his thigh."

She looks at him again, "Chad?" but he starts to tear up again. "Don't worry," she reassures. "I can make it so that he never hurts anyone again."

Chad faces her, "How?"

* * *

Chad tries to move his feet, but they're stuck to the cross. The dark figure steps into view, hands in his pockets, as he clicks his tongue, "Chad. Chad. Chad. I warned you not to spread such blasphemy." He turns to the crowd, "Alas. The crime for blasphemy is death. All the congregation shall stone him to death."

When the first few stones hit him, he screams. The air escapes his lungs, the new stones hit him, and he can't catch his breath. "Your Highness?" He feels his hands free; however, he still can't move his legs, and he falls over the rope at his waist.

He sits up straight in bed, his mom worries, "Pumpkin?", and he wraps his arms around her. He starts to cry, and his father places a hand on his back.

Charming quietly tells the guard, "You're excused." before he turns back to Chad.

"It was just a nightmare," his mother reassures.

He lets go, and his father questions, "Do you remember what happened?"

Chad takes a shaky breath, "I was being stoned to death."

"Stoned?" he disbelieves. "For what?"

"Blasphemy." They fail to speak, and he explains, "I spoke out about something."

"Blasphemy is speaking ill of The Lord," his father reminds him.

"When it comes to powerful people," Chad debates, "does it really matter?"

His father takes moment, "What's this about?"

"Everyone's so much more powerful than me," he admits. "What if I make one of them mad, and they do something?"

His mother mentions, "Is this about Ben?"

"With how things are going," his father inputs, "there won't even be a trial."

"It's about everything," Chad dismisses. "I'm not a good person. I do things I'm not supposed to."

"Is this about the nurse?" his father questions.

"What part of 'it's about everything' do you not understand?" Chad tears up, "It's about the nurse. It's about Ben. It's about some ass of a teacher, who thinks he can throw his success around to make my word mean nothing." He gulps, "It's about how even God isn't willing to help me. No one is, because I don't deserve it."

"Maybe that's why we're here now," his father suggests. "Maybe God gathered us so that we can help you." Chad shakes his head. "Please. Tell us how we can help."

He stares at the bed, "No one can help me."

"You were yelling in your sleep," his mother seriously says.

"You know how this works," his father reminds him. "It's either you let us help you or we will take you to someone who can."

"You want to help me?" Chad tests, before he eyes between them. "Stop making everything about God. I don't want to go to church, I don't want to pray before dinner, and I don't want to hear how much God loves me, when he's made my life a living Hell."

"Chad," he starts.

"I get it." He starts to cry, "He doesn't like who I am." before he deeply breathes. "If He doesn't want me, I don't want Him in my life either."

"Why would God hate you?" his father disproves.

"Its not like I'm following any of His rules," Chad counters.

"God doesn't expect you to be perfect," he disagrees. "All that matters is that you have faith. He has a plan for us. You just need to trust in it."

"It's hard."

"I know." His father hugs him, "But God doesn't give us anything we cannot handle."

Chad sniffles, "Why does He give us anything?"

Charming frowns, "To make us strong. It might seem like a lot, but remember 'with God all things are possible'. You're stronger with Him. All you need is faith."


	18. Trouble

**Trouble **

**(Tuesday Afternoon, August 6****th****)**

"Hey," Chad walks up to the semi-circle desk. "Where's Rebecca?"

"Rebecca," the woman repeats.

"She's like an interning nurse or something," he explains. "I thought she worked today."

"Yes, well," she clasps her hands. "I'm afraid miss Rebecca Stein won't be working here or at any hospital anymore."

"Why?" Chad concerns.

"Well, that's what happens when you steal drugs from the supply closet." He glances down, and she inches forward, "But you didn't hear that from me."

"Of course, not," he evenly expresses, before he lays an arm on the counter and leans forward. "But how do you know it was her?"

"A keycard is required to enter the room," she answers. "Her card was used, but she didn't sign anything out at the time."

Chad places his hand in the pocket with the keycard, as his eyes shift, "What's going to happen to her?"

"Well, she can say goodbye to her medical career."

Chad turns around, pushes himself from the desk, and saunters through the hall. "Chad," he hears his father, and sees him standing before him. His expression falters, "What happened?"

He blinks, and the tears leave his eyes, "I got her fired."

"Chad," he softly replies.

He hugs him, "I'm sorry."

He returns it, placing a hand on Chad's head, "We're going to fix this."

* * *

"King Charming. Prince Chad," the man eyes between them. "I hear you're hoping that I continue Rebecca Stein's internship."

"It's my fault she got fired," Chad explains.

"Is that so?" He fails to speak, and the director gestures to the chairs, "Take a seat."

Chad and his father sit on the opposite end of the desk, before Chad admits, "The reason why Rebecca's card was used was because I was flirting with her, and it was a private place for us to make out."

"So, she didn't steal anything," he concludes. "She just broke sanitation standards."

"I'm sorry," Charming interrupts. "What my son is trying to say is that he feels responsible for getting her fired, because he put her in that kind of position. We're just trying to make things right."

He nods, "Then tell me this." before he faces Chad. "Three bottles of oxycodone went missing after she used her keycard. Can you explain that?"

Chad glances over as his father looks at him, before he frowns at the man, "She left before I did. I didn't see her take anything."

"It was a slow day." He disproves, "Her card was the last one used."

"Someone could have messed up inventory," Chad suggests.

"I doubt that."

"Why?" Chad challenges, "I know that after Ben had that surgery, the nurse couldn't find the clipboard to sign anything out. Maybe other people had the same problem."

The director stares at him, "Prince Chad, this will only work once. The next time you think you've gotten someone fired, I will be holding them fully accountable for their own actions. Are we clear?"

"Like crystal," he smiles.

"Yes," the director suspiciously eyes over him. "Crystal."

"Thank you," Charming says, as he stands from his seat. Chad follows him into the hallway, and his father smiles, "That was honorable of you."

"Yeah," Chad dodges, before he reaches into his pocket. "I have to see her."

He examines him, "Why's that?"

Chad pulls the lanyard out of his pocket and the keycard hangs between them, "If she's working here, she's going to need this back."

His father frowns, "Let's find her."

* * *

"Chad," his father starts, as they come to a stoplight. "Is there something you want to tell me, something that might explain why you have her keycard?"

"I told you," Chad keeps his eyes away from him. "I had sex with her. I found the keycard afterwards."

The light turns green, and his father mentions, "Remind me what Oxycodone is."

"It's morphine," he informs.

"Right." Charming contemplates, "Like that morphine your doctor had you using."

Chad turns to him, "Are you trying to say something?"

"You told him that you didn't see her take anything," he adds.

"Are you trying to ask something?" he frustrates.

"You know I just want you to be able to be honest with me," he comments.

"So, what?" Chad's voice raises, "Just because I was prescribed a bottle, I must have a problem now. Right?"

"I didn't say that," his father backtracks, before he pulls over. "But if you did take the pills, then you obviously need help."

"How about you help Ben keep his teeth to himself," Chad says, before he opens the door. He notices his father unbuckle and hurries, "Don't." He looks at him, and Chad frowns, "I need to do this alone."

His father nods, "I'll be here when you're done."

Chad shuts the door, walks up to the house, and raises his hand to the door; however, he falters. As far as one-night-stands go, this is a doozy. He takes a deep breath and knocks. It sucks being accountable for your actions, so the entire day has pretty much sucked complete ass.

The brunette nurse opens the door, and her eyes narrow, "You."

"I'm sorry," he manages.

"For what?" she crosses her arms. "Having sex with me to get those drugs or getting me fired for it?"

"Actually, you're not fired," he tries to smile. "I talked to the head guy or whatever. I told them it was my fault."

"You told them you were the one that stole the drugs?" she doubts.

Chad takes a moment, "Ah, no. I just told them we were making out in the supply closet. That's why your card showed up." He pulls the keycard from his pocket, and she snatches it from the air. "Anyway, you're not fired anymore. You should be getting a call at any time." She continues to glare at him, and he sighs, "Come on. I got your job back. You should be happy."

"You used me," she seethes. "All that talk about King Ben's parents and how worried you were about him, was any of it even true?"

"Of course, it was," Chad frowns, and her expression slips. "I'm not an actor."

She eyes over him, "I feel sorry for whatever girl you're going to snatch up and marry."

His eyes lower, "I don't know if I am." He faces her and explains, "I don't find girls very interesting. Some of them are hot, but I never feel anything."

Her frown deepens, "You're kidding me."

"Believe it or not," Chad contemplates, "my ex-girlfriend is trying to help me."

"Is it a choice, though?" she counters. "I mean, why do people keep breaking that law? If it's a choice, wouldn't they just not do it?"

"It's really hard," he admits. He squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath, and she places a hand on his shoulder. "I have a crush on my best friend." Chad faces her, "And he could die any day." He gulps, "That's all Ben ever talks about, is how he's going to die. He doesn't know how or when. He just knows it's going to happen, and when it does, he wants me to be king." She eyes over him, and he shakes his head, "In a perfect world, we'd rule together."

"In a perfect world, you'd be allowed to," she softly speaks.

He hugs her and whispers, "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

"Then don't." He lets go, and she explains, "You deserve to be happy. And to leave as few girls in the dust as possible."

He wipes the tears from his face, "Thank you." before he glances over at the car.

"Do your parents know?"

He turns to her, "They know about Ben, but they think that's just because we've been friends for so long. They blame my lack of interest in girls on casual sex. I couldn't possibly find one I want to spend the rest of my life with, if that's the only way I've seen them."

She takes a moment, "Were they okay with you and Ben?"

Chad runs a hand through his hair, "Not really. They actually put a lot of the blame onto Ben, which isn't fair because I'm not even sure if he really likes me like that."

"And, yet, your father's been visiting Ben at the hospital." Chad quiets, and she suggests, "Maybe they just need to warm up to the idea that you're not going to change."

"For that to happen," Chad discounts, "they'd have to know me first." He eyes over her, "Well, have a good day, I guess."

When he turns around, she steps forward, "Hey."

He turns back around, and she seriously mentions, "I better not see you in the hospital overdosing. Try to get some help."

Chad nods, "Yeah. Okay." before he heads to the car.

When he gets in, his father comments, "That looked emotional."

"Yeah," Chad accepts.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Chad watches as she shuts the door, "I just can't believe I hurt her like that."

"Chad." He turns towards him, and his father inquires, "Is there something you want to tell me?" Chad folds his arms, and his father places a hand on his shoulder, "Hey."

"I'm scared."

"She's not pregnant?" he assumes.

"No test is that quick," Chad dismisses.

He settles, "Then what is it?"

"Conversion therapy." His father lets go, and Chad clings tighter to himself, "I'm afraid if I'm honest with you, then you'll make me get it."

His father hesitates, "That kind of thing only helps people who want to be helped."

"This isn't about wanting help." He faces him, "Audrey's been trying to help me. I've been praying, I've spoken to pastors, and I've really tried to be good. I'm just not."

"I don't see how you could have gotten through something like that without us," he inputs. "If we knew how bad it was—"

"You'd've done what?" Chad interrupts, and he meets his eyes. "I'm tired of trying to be something I'm not. I have enough crap going on in my life to be worrying about this too."

"I just want what's best for you," he softly speaks. "Part of that is building a life with someone who loves you and having a family."

"And how's that fair if I don't love her?" Chad pinpoints, and his father silences. "I just want to be happy. I'm not going to get that in a loveless marriage." His father places his hands back on the steering wheel, and he gapes, "Aren't you going to say something?"

"I have to discuss this with your mother." Charming starts the car, "We're going to have to talk about this later."

* * *

"I might as well just kill myself now," Chad considers. "There's no way I would survive conversation therapy." He murmurs, "They probably have people monitoring you for that. It would be worse than Hell."

"Don't talk like that," William demands. "Your parents will understand."

"If they understood," Chad disproves, "they wouldn't be trying to come up with a plan."

"Chad?" his father voices from the hallway, before he opens the door and eyes between them. "Keep the door open. Okay?"

Chad's eyebrows furrow, "You never told me to close the door with Audrey."

"Audrey's a nice girl," he excuses. "But I want you to keep your door open now, regardless of the company."

"I can still have sex with the door open," Chad threatens.

His father tiredly stares at him, "William. Can you give us a minute?"

"He's just upset," William defends.

"I realize that," Charming widens his eyes, "but we need to talk." William nods, walks by him, and Chad's father shuts the door behind him.

After he turns to him, Chad squirms in his seat, "I feel like I'm in trouble."

"Your mother and I talked," he informs, before he moves over to the desk and sits.

"And?" Chad quietly prompts.

"Age of consent is sixteen. Maybe it's sixteen for a reason." He evenly advises, "We're not allowing you to have sex again, until you're sixteen—girls or guys." He nods down, "If you still feel like you can't connect with girls at that point, then we'll discuss options."

"Like conversion therapy," Chad accuses.

"I don't know if that's the right action to take," his father hesitates, "but we would have to do something."

"You never cared what Ben did," he reminds him.

"Ben's life will be here," his father counters. "You have an eternity, and I want you to be able to spend it in Heaven with me and everyone you care for."

Chad quiets, "Are you saying when Ben dies, he'll be gone? Forever." His father fails to answer, and he shouts, pointing to the door, "Get out."

"Chad," he tries to reason.

"Fine." He jumps from the bed and strides to the door, "I'll get out."

Charming sighs, pulls out his phone, and waits for the guard to answer, "Yes. I need someone posted at the front, back, and side entrances. Chad's grounded. Keep him here."


	19. Wednesday

**Wednesday **

**(Wednesday Morning, August 7****th****)**

"Chad's been grounded before," Brendan mentions. "It wouldn't be the first time he lost his phone privileges."

"He was talking about killing himself," William worries.  
They walk up the rounded, white stone stairs, "This is Chad we're talking about. Maybe he was just being dramatic." William gapes at him, and Brendan smiles, "You know, I have an easier time seeing your reaction without your sunglasses."

He glares at him, "I'm too tired for this." before he knocks on the door. "I can't believe you would just call him dramatic."

"That's a good thing." Brendan thinks, "That means this is just a cry for help, before he does think about doing something like that."

William narrows his eyes at him, "And that means we shouldn't be helping him now?"

Brendan opens his mouth, but then the door opens. He smiles at the guard, "We're looking for Chad."

"Chad's grounded," he relays.

"We know," William informs. "We just need to talk to him."

The guard pauses, "I can't let you do that."

"Then get King Charming," he protests.

"William," Brendan reaches for his arm, but he pulls away.

"Get the king's crown down here now," William seethes.

The guard pulls out his phone and waits for an answer, "Yes. Sorry, Your Highness. I have a couple kids at the door worried about Prince Chad." He takes a moment. "I already told them that. They want to see you." The guard eyes over them, "It's William White and…"

"Brendan," the brown-haired boy supplies.

"Brendan," he finishes.

William hears the other end. "I'll be down in a minute."

He sighs, glancing from the sun to the guard, "Can I get some shade?"

The guard steps aside, and William walks into the foyer. Brendan comments, "That's quite the talent you've got, threatening people to get into their homes." William gives him another look, and Brendan frowns, "Do you need to eat?"

He turns away from him, "We're scheduled for tomorrow. I can wait."

"There's seven days in a week," he reminds him. "You're not exactly eating every three days. Maybe you need to be."

"What are you going to do?" William irritably responds. "Change the week to six days instead of seven?"

"We could still figure something out," he offers.

"Thursdays and Sundays," William says, before he turns to him. "I don't want you to think I'm using you."

"You're not," he reassures. "I'm doing this, because we're friends."

"And I don't want that to change." William takes a deep breath, "If we don't keep a strict schedule, what's keeping me from thinking that two days has been three?"

"We would have to write it down," Brendan plans.

"Life gets busy," William frowns. "That's not going to work."

"What's not going to work?" Charming interrupts.

William turns around, as Charming descends the staircase. "Where's Chad?"

Charming frowns, "He's grounded. I told you this yesterday."

"You're grounding him, because he's different," he accuses.

"No," Charming rejects. "I'm grounding him, because if he's isolated enough, he will appreciate the company he gets once he's ungrounded."

"You mean that the next time you put him in a room with a guy and a girl, he'll choose the girl," William rebuttals.

Charming's expression sterns, and Brendan intrudes, "Forgive him. It's Wednesday."

"Don't blame this on my eating," William derails, before he faces King Charming. "I'm worried. Chad said some stuff yesterday. I need to know how he's doing."

"What things?" Charming concerns, but William quiets. "Okay. Look. I have a guard on Chad. He's not going to be able to do anything rash."

"He didn't have to tell you," William argues. "He trusted you, and now you're keeping him from his friends?"

"Well, I can't know which of his friends are encouraging his behavior, can I?"

He pauses, "Chad said if you couldn't accept him, he was going to kill himself. He'd rather do it now, than be sent to some conversation camp where they'd keep him from doing it."

Charming frowns, "You need to go."

"That's it?" he protests.

"Come on," Brendan whispers. "We told him. Let's go."

He steps forward, "You're just going to hear me say that and what? Say it's just a phase? That he'll be okay?"

"He will be okay," Charming reassures, and when William walks towards him, Brendan grasps his arm; however, he pushes him away, and Brendan falls to the floor. William starts for him again, and the guard grabs him. He sees the hand in front of his mouth, bites it, and the guard places his arm to William's neck.

Brendan stands up, "What are you doing?"

After a moment, William ceases to struggle, the guard sets him on the floor, and Chad races down the stairs, "William!"

His father holds up a hand, Chad halts, and the guard says, "He'll be out for a minute."

Chad slowly makes his way down the stairs, "What was going on?"

Brendan informs, "He was worried about you." before Chad sees William's eyes open.

He pushes his sunglasses back up to his nose, "Chad?"

"Hey," he softly offers.

When William gets to his feet, Charming instructs, "Chad. Your friends would like to know if you're okay."

He faces them, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"So, you're not thinking about killing yourself?" he doubts.

Chad slowly shakes his head, "No. I don't think so."

William glances from Chad's father to him, "You're just saying that, because your dad's here. You don't want him to stop you from doing it."

"I'll be able to see people when school starts," Chad frowns. "Being grounded isn't something worth killing yourself over."

William's jaw drops, and Brendan intrudes, "You know that's not why. It would be from all the people telling you to change something you can't."

"Maybe it can," Chad negates. "Maybe this will work."

William frustrates, "You can't just change what you are."

"This isn't some virus that changed my DNA," Chad fumbles. "It's just a feeling, probably fueled by hormones. If I stop now, then maybe I won't be confused later."

Brendan whispers, "Do you really think that?"

Chad falters, before he nods and loudly remarks, "Maybe I do."

After a minute of quiet, Charming takes out his phone, "William. What's your father's phone number?"

"What?" he disbelieves.

"Your father's phone number," he repeats. "I'm going to have him pick you up."

"I can walk," he counters, but when he turns around the guard blocks the door.

"I want to speak with him," Charming calmly insists.

"Why?" William panics.

"You come in here, you charge at me, and you bite my guard," he lists.

"I'm sorry," William apologizes. "Please, don't tell them."

Charming takes a moment, "Would your parents hurt you if I told them?"

"No," he immediately replies.

"Then I see no reason not to."

William glances down, "I don't want them to think I could do something liked that."

"But you did," Charming counters, "and I think they could help."

He faces him, "What if I don't want them to know?"

"Well," Charming thinks, "I have your mother's number, but I'd rather not wake her up for this, especially when she's going to be working later."

When William fails to speak, Brendan steps forward, "Your parents will understand."

He turns to him, "Understand? My mother doesn't drink human blood. And they thought the whole survival-safety thing in my head got taken care of with you. How are they supposed to react, when they find out I've done something I had never done before—something I never did back when I only had blood to heal?"

"You were tired then," Brendan excuses. "Maybe it's a good sign that you did this."

William sadly huffs, "Good."

"I can help you talk to them," Brendan offers.

William sighs, takes out his phone, and faces Charming, "I'll give you the number."

* * *

"The suspense is killing me," William sighs, as he sits across from his parents.

His mother informs, "We think your friend's right. The reason why you tried to fight King Charming instead of finding another solution is because you haven't eaten recently."

"You don't drink human blood," he reminds her, "and you're fine."

She hesitates, "That's not entirely true anymore."

"What?"

His father explains, "When your mother was pregnant with you, she started to get cravings." William shifts in his seat, and he continues, "There's a program now. If you show proper documentation, you're allowed three blood bags per week."

"Is that legal?" William wonders.

"Blood donations can only be used for transfusions up to six weeks," his mother answers. "The hospital set up this program as a productive way to get rid of the ones about to expire."

"If you were to enter the program," his father suggests, "you could use the bags on the days you're not getting a donation."

"It should make it easier to wait," she agrees.

William takes a moment, "I heard that hospital blood doesn't taste good."

"It's not about taste," his mother dismisses. "It's about necessity. If you need it, you will have something here. So long as you can stomach it, it should work."

"It sounds like you've made my mind up for me," he interprets.

His father speaks up, "What are you going to do when your donor gets sick?" and William eyes the table. "Even if you think you can wait through the fourth day, you're still going to need a backup."

William looks at his mother, "How public is this?"

"You shouldn't worry about what others think," she opinionates.

"I don't care about what people think." He discerns, "I care about my future. I'm not going to be allowed to play sports in college if they think I have an unfair advantage."

"All of this for sport?" his father questions.

"What else am I good at?" William asks.

"Well," he thinks, "you're good at math."

"Math?" William half laughs.

"You like to read," his mother inputs.

William leans back in his chair, "Great. Maybe I can be a teacher."

"You could be a gym teacher," his father smiles.

"Ugh," he groans, before he stands from the table.

His father frowns, "What's wrong?"

"I'm tired," William complains. "I'm going back to bed."

"It's nine PM."

"That doesn't make me not tired," William irritably responds.

His father faces her, "Withdrawals?"

"Probably," she agrees.

William gapes, "I don't use drugs."

"No," his mother agrees, "but blood can act as a high. It makes you feel better, stronger."

"It gives you energy," his father adds. "You've been sleeping less, since Brendan offered to be a donor."

William tiredly replies, "Okay. And?"

"I'm going to the blood bank Saturday," she informs. "I'd like you to come with me."

"What if someone sees?" William worries.

"We can be discreet," she reassures. "You can wear a hood, and I can have a hat."

"People will still recognize you," he doubts.

"Once we're inside, it won't even matter," She counters. "Anyone volunteering there is going to be an ally to us."

"Or they might think giving carnivores expired blood is better than them attacking people," William rebuttals. "Some of them might just tolerate us."

"I haven't gotten exposed, yet," his mother points out. "I think we're safe."

"Whatever," William agrees. "I'm too tired to argue."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 06/01/2020


	20. Private

**Private **

**(Wednesday Night, August 7****th****)**

Chad looks over at the guard with the brown buzzcut, "Do you really need to be in my room? Can't you just stand outside or something?"

"I'm sorry, Prince Chad," he addresses, "but I have orders to keep a close watch on you. That includes making sure you don't jump out those windows."

Chad looks at the large windows, "I didn't think of that before." before he faces the guard's sudden realization. "Don't worry. I won't do it."

"Regardless," he evenly expresses, "I need to remain here."

Chad conjures, "What if I want to masturbate?"

He takes a minute, "Then I think your en-suite would be private enough."

Chad glances from the bathroom to his nightstand, "Great idea." before he smiles, goes over to the wardrobe, and pulls out his blue pajamas. He turns around, sees the guard observing him, and he frowns, "I'm just going to take a shower." The guard continues to stare at him, and Chad widens his eyes before going to the nightstand. He opens the drawer and conceals the orange bottle with the clothes, before he folds it into them. He shuts it and glances at the guard, as he turns towards the bathroom.

After he enters, he locks the door, turns the shower on, and opens the bottle. He takes two out and bring them to his mouth, before he fills the glass with water to down them. He hides the pills in the drawer with his backup necessities. Chad shuffles other things on top of it, closes the drawer, and then strips before moving into the shower.

* * *

"Chad," his father says, when he enters the dining hall.

Chad glances between his parents, before he notices the food spread across the table, "What's up with the brunch?"

"Pumpkin," his mother sweetly says. "Come here, please."

Chad looks back at the double doors; however, the guard has already trapped him in, and Chad sighs before slowly making his way across the vast room. He watches himself walk across the tile, until the table comes into view, and he looks between his parents again. "Take a seat," his father relays.

Chad sits across from them, and he examines the platters again, "This looks like the last supper." He faces them, "What bad conversation do you think this is covering?"

His father clasps his hands on the table, "Bernard told me—"

"Bernard?" Chad questions.

"The guard watching you on nightshift," he explains. "He said you were asking him about privacy for masturbation."

Chad crosses his arms, "He had no right to tell you that."

"He asked me to reconsider grounding you."

Chad shakes his head, "Why would he do that?"

"He's worried," his father frowns. "As am I." Chad waits, and he questions, "When you do that stuff, what are you thinking about?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does if you're thinking about guys." Chad eyes down, and his father reasons, "This isolation tactic isn't going to work, if the thing keeping you going is knowing that you'll be able to get away with that stuff at school."

"I'm a teenager," Chad excuses. "I can't just stop thinking about it."

"You should be focusing on your spiritual health," he opinionates. "Hormones aren't an excuse for indulging in sin."

"So, it's a sin to think about sin, now?" Chad disbelieves.

"If you're actively thinking about it, then yes," he affirms, and Chad silences. "The guard also said you took something into the bathroom with you. What was it?"

Chad raises an eyebrow, "You mean, like a vibrater?"

"I'm going to need to confiscate that," he informs.

"Okay." Chad takes a moment, "I really don't use it that much, anyway."

"How did you even get it?" his mother intrudes.

When his father looks from her to him, he answers, "The internet."

"The internet," she sighs.

"We're going to have to have the guard supervise your computer use, then, too," his father instructs.

"About that," Chad thinks. "Can't you just lock my windows from the outside or something? I don't want some random man in my room when I'm trying to sleep."

"They're our most trusted staff," he reminds him.

"I don't care," Chad's voice raises. "I don't know who the fuck these people are or what they're hiding."

"We're doing this," his mother responds, "so that you can still have all your freedoms. Would you rather have us place you in a room without anything you could hurt yourself with?"

"Maybe," he enforces.

His father comments, "You wouldn't have anything that's yours. You wouldn't have television, you wouldn't have your laptop—not even your own bed."

"And no bathroom," she adds. "You don't want to know how many suicides happen in washrooms. We need the guard to monitor how long you're in there for."

"You're asking me to choose between privacy and freedom?" Chad disbelieves.

"That's the kind of decision you're going to have to make as a government official," he evenly expresses. "Would you rather have a guard watching you but have access to everything you own or would you rather trade your guard for what equates to a padded room?"

Chad contemplates, "I guess, having a guard isn't that bad."

His mother mentions, "The ones assigned to you have worked for us for at least ten years. You can trust them."

"After lunch," his father continues, "we'll go to your room so that you can hand over any sex toys you have."

"Unbelievable," Chad murmurs, before he eyes over the chicken alfredo, brownies, and fruit salad. "Is there anything here that doesn't have fat?"

"That's another thing," he says, and Chad faces him. "I want to see your food diary."

Chad narrows his eyes, "I don't have a food diary."

"You don't?" he prods.

"No," he takes offense. "I'm not Ben. I don't keep track of every little thing I eat."

"So, Ben was right," Charming interprets. "You're not eating fat at all."

"There's fat in everything," Chad counters. "I don't need to keep track to lower it."

"Fat promotes brain function," he recalls. "And your brain scans came back normal."

"This better not be going where I think it's going," Chad asserts.

"We can't control what you eat at school," his mother says, "but we can make sure you're eating right while you're here."

"Eating right?" Chad gapes. "Since when is fat a good thing?"

"I did a little research," his father comments. "It's the saturated fat you need to keep track of. Fat itself isn't something to fear." He takes out a sheet of paper, "You're allowed up to twenty-two grams of saturated fat and seventy grams of total fat per day for a two thousand calorie diet."

"They're talking about health," Chad argues, "not staying fit."

Charming frowns, "Health is what matters."

"So, I can't be healthy and look good?" His parents give each other a look, and he insists, "You can't just trap me here alone and make me eat crap."

"You're fifteen years old. You don't need to be dieting."

"It's my body," Chad counters. "Shouldn't I be able to be happy with it?"

"When I was your age," his mother informs, "I was happy to just have something to eat, and I had to get it myself."

"Having access to food isn't a problem anymore," Chad reasons.

"Which is why you should be focusing on your health," she continues. "You have choices. Make the right ones."

Chad furrows his eyebrows, "Are you even hearing yourself? Make the right choice? Does that even give me one?"

"Chad," his father starts.

"And right for who?" Chad interrupts. "If you think my thoughts are going to keep the 'isolation tactic' from working, then why try? What war do you think you're fighting? You think there's some sex demon controlling me that you can starve out?"

His father takes a moment, before he meets his eyes, "We all have things we struggle with, Chad. You can't let it take over your life."

"It's not like I have sex all the time," Chad defends. "I don't masturbate every day. I have other things I want to do. It's not like my life revolves around it."

"It's a problem, if it's affecting your social life," he opinionates. "I can see the distress it's been causing you. I just want to help."

"My friends are fine with it," Chad disagrees. "The only person causing me distress is you. Even Pastor Michelson said it's biological and there's no way God would let me burn in Hell for it."

He asks, "Do you think it's okay to do something, just because you know you won't get punished for it?"

Chad's frown deepens, "I suppose, not."

"God gave us orders to be fruitful and multiply," he reminds him, "and you have an obligation to your people to give them an heir."

"And you have an obligation to that child to give them a loving family," she adds.

He continues, "It's better for everyone if you learn how to appreciate girls for who they are so that you can build a relationship with one someday. You don't have to understand her, but you do need to care about her and be there for each other."

"Whatever." Chad shakes his head, "I'm still not eating any of this crap."

His parents look at each other, before Charming folds his cloth napkin, "Alright, then. You can show us where you're hiding that vibrater." Chad relaxes, placing a hand to his head, before he stands and heads out of the hall.

* * *

After Chad opens the wardrobe, he pulls a drawer open and takes out a pair of tube socks. He hands the heavy socks to his father, and Charming unfolds it to take the dildo out. "A little big, isn't it?"

"Well, you know what they say," Chad recounts, 'go big or go home'." His parents look at him, and he sighs, "I just wanted to know what it would be like, okay?" He takes a deep breath, "I don't see the point in this. You realize that if I really wanted to, I could just shove a permanent marker, the handle of a knife, or literally anything else up there, right?"

"The handle of a knife?" his mother gapes.

His father questions, "If you're using the handle of the knife for your pleasure, then which part of it are you holding?"

Chad scratches his head, "I guess it would be the sharp part." before he shrugs. "Okay. One of those large cooking spoons, then."

She turns to Charming, "Maybe we should let him keep it. It might be safer."

Charming looks at Chad, "You said you don't use it that often. How often is that?"

"Once or twice a month?" he unsurely answers, and he sees his doubt. "You assume that just because I like guys that I would like anal too, but I'm not a bottom." He widens his eyes, "If you want me to stop masturbating to guys, then you're going to have to find a way to stop me from jerking off too."

His mother hesitates, "Can't you just think of the sensation? Do you really need to objectify a person?"

"It's not like it's anyone I know," Chad uncomfortably defends. "It's just random pictures online."

"Porn," his father assumes.

Chad partially smiles, "A shirtless guy in swimming shorts isn't that bad either." His parents look at each other again, and Chad's expression falls. "What?"

"They say it takes three months to kick an addiction," Charming looks from Ella to Chad. "So, just no beaches for three months."

"You mean until after winter ends," Chad angrily corrects, before he grins. "What about swimming in gym class?"

"You'll need to opt for the cardio option," he solves.

"He would still be changing with the other guys," she points out.

"I'm not attracted to every guy I see," Chad takes offense. "What do you think, that I'm scoping out my friends in the locker room?"

His father faces him, "But you like Ben?"

Chad falters, "Ben doesn't even change with us. He either leaves his shorts and tank top on or he goes into the stalls."

Charming sighs, "Okay, then. I'm still going to need you to hand your condemns over."

"What?" Chad questions.

Ella mentions, "We gave those to him so that if he found himself in that kind of situation, he could be safe."

Charming comments, "Except, now he's looking for that kind of situation. Maybe if we take them back, he will think twice about having sex with someone."

"Since when are you for abstinence?" Chad argues.

He faces him, "Clearly, there's some parts of our conversations you've missed." and Chad silences. "Give them to me."

Chad shakes his head, "I don't have them."

"I know it's hard to give it up," his father starts.

"You gave me a three-pack," Chad interrupts. "I don't have them."

"You've had sex three times?" he slowly replies.

Chad walks over to the nightstand and takes out a large box, before he shuts the drawer and turns around. His parents walk over, and he explains, "I got these online too."

His father takes them, "A forty pack? How much sex were you planning on having?"

"They don't expire for three years," Chad quietly answers, "and I thought the different sensations would be interesting to try out." His father glances at the variety pack again, and Chad comments, "You know. If I was going to have sex anyway, it might as well be good."

Charming settles, "You can have them back once you've had a long-term girlfriend."

"Long-term?" he inquires.

"Six months," his mother answers, and Charming looks at her. "He's never dated anyone for longer than three months. It's fair."

He turns towards Chad, "Six months, but we need to talk to her first to make sure you're putting just as much effort into it as she is."

"Whatever," Chad bypasses. "You took my stuff. Can you go, now?"

His father nods, before they turn to leave; however, before they make it to the door, Charming turns around, "Oh. Um, if you had a dildo, does that mean you have lube too?"

Chad takes a deep breath and holds it, as he makes his way back to the wardrobe. He takes the other set of tube socks out and feels the tears run to his cheeks, before he turns to throw it at them. Charming catches it, and Chad shouts, "Get the fuck out."

"Pumpkin," his mother frowns.

Charming comments, "Come, Ella. He needs space."

She takes a moment, before she turns and follows him out of the room. The guard shuts the door, and she sighs, "I hate seeing him so upset."

"We should go back to the dining hall," he suggests.

"Charming," she stresses. "What if he never finds a girl he likes? Is he supposed to just stay abstinent forever?"

"He can't take advantage of girls who may be expecting more," he reasons. "Chad's just going to have to learn to respect girls, whether he finds them boring or annoying or not."

"Telling him he can't have sex until marriage is going to send the wrong message."

"I didn't say that," Charming calmly comments.

"We might as well have," she disagrees. "What's keeping him from marrying just for the sake of being able to have sex? And what's stopping him from inviting one of his friends over and telling his wife they just need some guy time?"

"If he's here, we can take care of it."

"He's not going to be here if we keep treating him like he wouldn't understand his own body," she huffs. "Three-year-olds start understanding their likes and dislikes. You honestly believe a teenager isn't going to know what they're sexual interests are?"

"So long as Chad is attracted to girls, all he has to do is find one he's compatible with," Charming counters. "I know he can do this."

She strides away, "We might as well force him into an arranged marriage."

"Wait." She continues, and he catches up with her, "I know we have some disagreements here, but let's talk it over lunch."

"I've lost my appetite," she softly speaks. "I have dishes to do." He stops in his steps and watches as she continues down the hall.


	21. Struggle

**Struggle **

**(Thursday Morning, August 8****th****)**

Charming places the plate into the sink, "How's it going?"

She runs her thumb over the bumpy, rubber handle of the ladle, "I'm never going to look at cooking utensils the same way again."

"I forgot to ask." Charming leans against the counter, "The vibrater and lube, did you want those?"

She shakes her head, "I don't want to think about where it's been."

Charming nods, before he rereads the label on the condoms, "Warming: warm sensations lubricant helps enhance sensual pleasure for both partners." He looks at her, "There's no way Chad's having sex forty times in the next three years. We could probably try a few, if you're interested?" He watches her wash the plate. "Waste not whatnot." She doesn't speak, and he sets the package down. "What are you thinking?"

"What's your plan?" She sets the last dish in the drying rack and turns to him, "You can't keep him from getting these urges. Are you expecting him to marry someone he doesn't love?"

"Of course, not," Charming reassures, before he places a hand onto her shoulder. "Chad's said he's attracted to girls. He just can't connect to them, right? So, all he needs to do is find a girl he thinks is attractive and then form a friendship with her."

"Society doesn't exactly make many opportunities for that," she reminds him. "Girls and boys are given different dorms at the school. They don't even play the same sports."

Charming contemplates, "Do you know how Carlos became friends with Jane?"

"He probably made the effort," she answers. "And he seems to have a sensitive personality. He probably just gets along with girls better. Chad may not."

He sighs and moves behind her, before he starts to rub her shoulders, "Okay. How about this: if Chad still doesn't find girls interesting by his sixteenth birthday, we will hold a ball for him instead? He can meet all the eligible girls from here and Auradon, and he can sit with them for ten minutes to get to know them."

"You want to replace his birthday party with a ball?" she questions.

"It worked for me," Charming smiles. "Maybe it will work for him."

She rubs the back of her neck, "We still haven't told Chad he's grounded into the school year. Maybe we can just let him go, instead of driving him back-and-forth."

"The ball will be more effective if it's a highlighted event for him," Charming comments. "He gets the whole night to socialize."

"With people he doesn't know," she worries. "Do you plan on letting his friends come?"

"He can have a lunch gathering or something," he compromises. "It's important he doesn't have any distractions."

"What if he's too depressed to socialize?"

"Then we can solve it when the time comes." He kisses the side of her neck, "Chad deserves the chance at a normal, happy life. Like what we have."

She faces him, "If he doesn't find a girl at that ball, I don't want to do this to him anymore." She takes his hands, "Like you said, he deserves to be happy."

Charming nods, "If he doesn't find a girl by then, I'll drop the matter."

He kisses her again, and she smiles, "I'm going to take a shower. Can you put the leftovers away, please?"

He grins, "Of course."

* * *

When Chad enters the dining room, no one's sitting that the grand table. He glances around. No one is sitting anywhere. His mother must still be cooking dinner; however, when he enters the kitchen, no one is there either. He sees the light on the slow cooker, and he walks over to it to lift the lid. It looks done and it smells done, but no one's there. He examines the contents of the stew: potatoes, carrots, and beef. He might be able to eat it if the beef is lean. He goes over to the trash, opens the lid, and sees the packaging. He carefully pulls it out from the corner and sees the label. It's grass-fed. That means it will be leaner and have omega-3s. He tosses it back in the trash and glances around, before he mutters, "Where are they?"

Bernard informs, "I heard a movie playing in the living room."

Chad shakes his head, "It's dinnertime." before he heads out of the kitchen. "What? Are they upset with me for getting upset earlier or something?"

"I'm sure that is not the case, Your Highness."

Chad exits the dining hall and strides down the corridor, before he stops at the living room. He hears his mother sigh, "My feet were killing me today. Thank you."

"No problem," Chad's father answers.

He looks inside and sees him giving her a foot massage. The guard whispers, "Perhaps you should start dinner by yourself."

Chad considers it, but as he's about to turn around, his attention is brought back. He gapes, staring as he sees his dad sucking on his mom's big toe, "What the hell?"

He stops and notices him in the doorway, "Chad." He shakes his head, and when his father gets to his feet, he starts back towards the dining hall. "Chad. I can explain."

"No. You don't need to." He faces him, "We all have things we struggle with, right?"

"Chad," he starts again.

"Why do you get to indulge in yours, but I don't get to indulge in mine?"

He settles, "What I do doesn't hurt anyone."

Chad huffs, "If I was allowed to date someone I actually liked, I wouldn't be hurting anyone either."

Charming takes a moment, "You told your friends you wanted to give this a chance. You said you were okay with it."

"Well, I lied," Chad shouts, and he notices his mother by the archway. He shakes his head, "What a surprise. I lied. Tell me something. Do I even look okay?"

Charming observes his flushed face and the sweat in his hair, "No. I suppose, not."

His mother steps forward, "Pumpkin. This is just temporary."

He faces her, "You never say anything. What are you really thinking?"

She hesitates, "I feel like being grounded and taking your sex toys away is the appropriate punishment for seducing a nurse at her work and getting her fired for it."

"But I fixed that," Chad reminds her.

She softly disagrees, "The damage was already done."

Chad tears up, "And how long am I grounded for?" and his parents look at each other. "What? What is it?"

His father hesitates, "If you're still attracted to girls, I think you stand a good chance of forming a relationship with one."

Chad's eyes widen, "This doesn't sound like a deadline."

"If you can't form a friendship with a girl you're attracted to by your birthday, I will be throwing you a ball to meet every eligible girl around your age."

"So," Chad unsurely asks, "am I grounded until my birthday or…"

His father frowns, "We will discuss it when the time comes."

Chad frustrates, "You can't just ground me indefinitely."

"Until your birthday," his mother interrupts, "you won't be staying in the dorms. We're going to have the guard take you back-and-forth."

"The guard?" Chad tiredly replies.

"I know how liberal the school is," his father claims. "I'm not letting you cut class so that you can find someone to have sex with."

"You think Fairy Godmother is encouraging students to have sex?" Chad disbelieves.

"Probably not," he thinks, "but nothing is being done to stop it either. The guard will be there for you so that I can know you're not."

Chad eyes away and whispers, "Are we done now?"

His parents look at each other, before his father nods, "For now."

"Then give me back my phone," Chad sadly commands. "I want to call Ben." His father looks down, and Chad shakily breathes, "He's my best friend."

"Of whom you've got a crush on," his father finishes.

"You can't keep me from him," Chad insists. "He's in the hospital."

"Which is why you shouldn't be putting your stress onto him," he concludes.

Chad walks past him, and his mother mentions, "Dinner should be ready now."

Chad faces her and grits his teeth, "Why do you think I was looking for you?" and when his parents look at each other again, he walks away.

The guard follows him, "Prince Chad, I thought you liked the stew." but Chad keeps quiet. It feels like an eternity, as they cross the gallery and make it to the chambers. He finds his room, strides over to the bathroom, and locks himself inside before sliding down the door. He crosses his arms over his knees and sobs into them. He never had to worry about being sent to some camp. His parents are doing it all on their own. He's never going to be allowed to be alone with his friends again. He can forget seeing Ben at all, and they definitely wouldn't allow him anywhere near those villain kids with their blatant sexual expression. Even Carlos wouldn't be able to help him now. He stands up and moves over to the sink, before he pulls the pills out of the drawer. He should have never told his father, but he'd insisted on honesty. Chad crushes the pill and snorts it with the straw. Ben's time is here. His is in Heaven. Chad stares into the orange bottle, before he hears the guard, "Prince Chad. Are you okay?"

"Go away," he irritably shouts, before he stares at the pills again. This could be his way out. This might be his only way out.

"Prince Chad," the guard says again.

Chad puts the pills away and goes to open the door, "What?"

"If you need someone to talk to," he offers, "you can talk to me."

"You ratted me out," Chad accuses. "How could I ever trust you?" The guard quiets, and Chad's eyebrows raise, "Can you get out of my way?"

The guard moves and Chad walks over to the large toy chest. He opens it and sees the array of balls, sticks, and a skateboard. He starts tossing the items around his bed, and the guard questions, "What are you doing?" Chad pauses, but after a moment, he merely continues. He surrounds his bed with the traps and takes out the skateboard, laying it parallel to his bed.


	22. Beard

**Beard **

**(Friday Afternoon, August 9****th****)**

When Chad clicks on the email chat notification, Bernard reminds him, "Your father doesn't want you speaking to Ben right now."

Chad faces the guard, "You have to at least let me tell him that." and when he doesn't speak, Chad returns his eyes to the screen.

Ben: _Your father told me what happened. You better clean up your act. I would start by turning in your pixie sticks for icebreakers, before he starts blaming everything on your sugar highs. He thinks your behavior and 'new' interests are a sign_.

Chad rereads the message, before he types back: _Got it, but you can't talk to me anymore. He thinks my friends are encouraging my interests. He probably won't want me talking to any guys at all. This school year's going to suck ass_.

After a minute Bernard begins, "Prince Chad."

"He's typing," Chad interrupts.

Ben: _I understand. Talk to you later_.

"Don't respond," the guard inputs. "You won't be able to say goodbye."

Chad turns to him, "You're more than just a guard with a buzzcut, aren't you?"

"I've lost a lot of people in my life," he informs. "It was always easier not to say goodbye. But that's just my opinion. If you want to say goodbye, you should do it in person."

"It's not goodbye," Chad glances down, before he turns back to the laptop. "I'll see Ben again. All I need to do is get myself a beard and then I'm out of here."

"Facial hair?"

Chad frowns at him, "Yes. Facial hair would solve all my problems." He faces the screen, exits the text box, and raises his eyebrows, "I guess if I had a beard, I could get a fake ID, move to the city, and run an underground sex trafficking club. There's money in that." He smiles, "I could just kidnap all the straight people in the world and turn them gay. And all I would have to do is rape everyone." He meets the guard's eyes, "Because, homosexuality is contagious."

"I got that," he notes.

Chad notices the emails, "Fucking stalker."

"What?" Bernard inquires.

"Nothing," Chad shakes his head, before he deletes three of the new emails from Professor Hawthorne. "This dumbass teacher doesn't understand, I'm not in his class."

Chad stares at the screen, and the guard questions, "Prince Chad?"

"I'm taking a shower," Chad distracts, before he strides over to the bathroom and locks himself inside. He's forgotten clean clothes, but it doesn't matter. He turns on the shower, takes the pills out, and he takes a couple. He wipes the excess powder from his nose and stares into the bottle. He could take them all, but then he wouldn't get to say goodbye to Ben. He has to at least say goodbye, a kiss before he ends his suffering. Ben probably wouldn't even mind. Somehow the more out-of-control he gets, the more Ben lets him get away with stuff. A month ago, Ben wanted him to tell his parents about the drugs and get help. Today he's helping him hide them. Icebreakers, he said. They look close enough, but pills have writing on them. They would make the same sound, though, and a quick glance might even make a pass. It could work.

* * *

When Chad's father enters the bedroom, he informs, "Dinner's ready."

Chad stares at the ceiling, as he lays on his bed, "Yeah."

"Coming down?" Chad fails to answer, and his father eyes the objects surrounding the bed, "What's with the toys?"

He murmurs, "They keep me safe when I'm asleep."

"Like Dino," he assumes.

"No," Chad continues to frown. "Dino's special."

"Right," his father slowly replies. "Chad." He walks over to him, but the ring of sports' equipment and game pieces block him from the bed. "I care about you. I know you can't see it right now, but everything I'm doing right now is for you and your future."

"What future?" Chad whispers.

"One where you can rule your kingdom without being a hypocrite," he answers. "You have a real good shot at a life any peasant could only dream of. Don't disrespect them by applying the law to them but not to yourself."

"I would never make homosexuality a crime," Chad counters. "And just like Ben, I don't plan on enforcing it."

"I know you think highly of Ben," his father argues, "but with enough evidence and push, even he wouldn't be able to keep the law from affecting you. You need to get a hold on this."

Chad continues to stare at the ceiling, "Is that it?"

He sighs, "Yes. That's it. Clean up some of these toys, please. If you don't come to dinner, we're bringing something to you."

After King Charming leaves, Bernard asks, "Are you going to clean up the toys?"

"No."

He offers, "Do you want me to pick up some of them for you?"

"No," Chad says again. "Tables aren't traps. Small things are. They're invisible."

The guard finds the foldable TV tray and maneuvers the table in between the toys, "How's this?"

Chad glances over, "That's good." before he remembers. "Thank you."

He nods, "You're welcome."

Chad closes his eyes and then there's a knock on the door. He sees his mom enter and sighs, "I'm coming down."

"It's been nearly two hours," she informs. Chad checks his alarm clock, as his eyes drift. "If you continue eating like this, we're going to have to ban you from the weight's room."

"Eat like what?" Chad disputes. "In my room?"

"You're not consuming enough food to keep up with your exercise," she opinionates. "That's why you're always tired."

"Or, maybe, I'm just depressed." His mother walks over to him, and he looks at her, "The one time I'm honest about something I don't know how you will react to, and I'm grounded indefinitely with no one allowed to talk to."

"That's not true," she denies.

"Okay." Chad tests, "Tell me when I get to a name of someone I can talk to. Ben. William. Brendan. Carlos. Aziz."

"As good as Aziz is," she interrupts, "you know your father doesn't want to risk the possibility of you being distracted."

"Distracted," Chad huffs. "I don't like Aziz like that."

"Social isolation can have surprising affects."

"Yeah." Chad's eyes widen, "I could start having a two-way conversation with mice."

She calmly comments, "Spend enough time with any animal and you start to understand them. No one thinks it's crazy to talk to a dog or cat."

Chad continues, "What about Mal or Evie? If I'm going to the Isle, I might as well talk to someone who knows what the laws or customs or whatever are."

"You're not going to the Isle of the Lost," she denies, and Chad eyes away. "What about Audrey? You told your father she's been trying to help you."

Chad faces her, "Audrey's only talking to me, because she wants to help. Once she figures out I'm hopeless, she's going to turn her back on me like everyone else."

His mother sets the platter on the small table, "Just think it through. I'm sure you know enough people, where we can find someone suitable for you to talk to."

"Name someone for me," Chad disproves.

"Fairy Godmother's daughter," she suggests.

"Are you saying that I get to spend time with Carlos if there's a girl in the room?"

"No."

"I was going to say," Chad comments, "because those two are like pigs in blankets."

"I was thinking more supervised phone calls or face cam card games." She explains, "Something you can do that wouldn't encourage objectifying anyone."

"That's not even worth it," Chad opinionates. "I'd rather be alone than have some disconnected friendship with someone."

"You haven't been grounded very long," she reminds him. "Maybe you'll change your mind. Three months is a long time."

"I could go on a hunger strike," Chad threatens.

"Don't even joke about that," she sternly says. "Eat." Chad doesn't move, and she comments, "There's a lot of worse places you could be right now. If you get the authorities involved in this matter, we will be seen as unfit—and not just from some hunger strike or strict parenting, but from not getting you help for this mental disease." She starts to cry, "You could be given a one-way ticket to the Isle of the Lost, and we would lose you." Chad looks away from her, and she pleads, "We just want to give you your best chance, but if six months pass and this is still an issue, we're not going to punish you for it. We're on your side."

Chad faces her, "If you were on my side, you would believe me when I say this is who I am." He shakes his head, "If you think I'm ever going to be honest with either of you again, then you're dead wrong."

She shakily breathes, "Just eat, please."

Chad turns the top of the tray so that it swings over the bed. He takes a bite of the steamed vegetables, before he frowns at her, "For the record, I'd rather be on the Isle. At least, then, I would be allowed to own my feelings."

"You mentioned pigs in blankets earlier," she recalls. "If I made some, would you snack on them tomorrow?"

Chad's frown deepens, "Just make sure it's pure beef."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 06/26/2020


	23. Beth Fleur

**Beth Fleur **

**(Saturday Morning, August 10****th****)**

When the laptop dings, Chad opens his eyes and sits up, "Did you hear that?"

Bernard confirms, "It came from your computer."

Chad rubs his eyes and checks the clock. It's one-thirty. He gets up and shuffles over to his desk, before he wakes up the laptop. He sees the chat notification. Ben Florian. Chad sighs, as he places a hand to his head and hears the guard walk over to him.

"Who's Beth?"

"What?" Chad glances at him, and the guard nods to the screen.

Chad looks at the chat again and his eyes widen, "Beth Fleur."

"Who is she?" the guard asks again.

"Uh. A friend, I guess." Fleur is French for flower. Ben did say he would talk to him later. Maybe, this is him?

"You guess?"

"Well, only my friends would be able to chat with me on my email," he reasons. "I don't just give it out to everyone." In fact, he would have need to accept their invitation. If this is Ben, then he must have entered into his email to accept. Which means he knows the password.

"Looks more like an ex-girlfriend," Bernard opinionates, and Chad reads the message.

Beth: _Hey, Charming. Long time, no see_.

Chad types: _Who are you?_

Beth answers: _You know me from school, idiot_.

Chad comments: _I thought I told you to stop talking to me_.

Beth: _So, you're not allowed to talk to girls now?_

Chad frowns, before he replies: _You're not a girl_.

Beth: _Ouch_. Chad stares, as she types. _So, you think I'm ugly?_

"Tell her she's beautiful, even if she's ugly," the guard recommends.

Chad narrows his eyes at him, "Don't tell me what to tell my exes." Chad turns back to the laptop and answers: _You're beautiful_.

Beth insists: _Then talk to me_. _I know you want to_.

Chad counters: _You know, your insistence is why I broke up with you_.

It takes a minute for her to respond: _I'm sorry about that_.

Chad: _I know_.

Beth: _I guess, I should let you sleep_.

Chad hurries: _I'm not asleep. Who's asleep? I'm not. You're not, right?_

Beth: _Lol. No. I'm not sleeping_.

Chad: _Good. We should talk, then_.

Beth: _We are talking_.

Chad smiles: _I knew that_.

* * *

"Beth Fleur," the guard reports. "Prince Chad talked with her for two hours about him being grounded, school, and nutritional health. They played a few sessions of online chess."

Charming sets the table, "What else do you know about this girl?"

"Her parents seem strict," he informs. "She doesn't have social media. Chad said she's struggled with anorexia, so it's possible her parents want to keep her from social pressures."

He nods, "That's probably for the best."

"Chad told her she should get one," Bernard warns. "He thinks it will make it easier to play games and keep record of it."

"Or he just wants pictures of her," Charming considers, before he meets the guard's eyes. "Thank you. Keep me updated."

Bernard bows, "Of course, Your Highness."

After he leaves, Charming enters the kitchen. Ella asks, "Can you help me take these to the dining room?" He fails to answer, and she turns to him. "Charming? Something wrong?"

He takes a moment, "One of Chad's ex-girlfriends contacted him. Bernard said they were talking half the night."

"Well, that's good," she assumes, and he rests an arm on the island counters. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

He thinks, "It's too easy."

"People return to their exes all the time," she disagrees.

"She doesn't even have social media," he mentions.

"I don't have social media," she reminds him.

"Well, yes," he starts.

She walks over and takes his hands, "We can't tell Chad we want him to give girls a chance and then tell him not to talk to one."

"All we have is his word," Charming stresses. "What if she's not even real?"

"If it gets serious," she suggests, "then we can always invite her to dinner."

He relaxes, "I suppose that's an option." There's a knock on the kitchen door, and when they turn towards it, Chad cautiously opens it. "Chad. Why are you knocking?"

"Well," he steps inside, "I just didn't want to interrupt anything again."

His father frowns, "The odds of us doing anything in the kitchen is slim."

"So, continue knocking," Chad confirms. "Got it, but you know it's harder to do that for rooms that don't have doors?"

"It was dark, and we lost track of time," his father defends.

Ella interrupts, "But we see where you're coming from."

Chad looks over the platters, "Which of these are the pig blankets?"

"In the fridge," his mother supplies. "Save room for lunch."

Chad's father watches him move towards the fridge, "Who's this girl we've been hearing so much about?"

"Girl?" Chad inquires, as he takes out a few wrapped hotdogs.

"Beth something," he prompts.

Chad hums as he chews the snack, "Fleur. Beth Fleur."

"Tell us more," he requests.

Chad takes a moment, "Well, she's an ex. We dated for like a month, but I barely ever saw her."

"Bernard said she went to school with you."

Chad pops another pig blanket into his mouth, "I think she commutes or something. She probably turns in her assignments through email or some shit."

"You think?" his mother replies.

"I mean, I never really saw her at school," Chad admits, "but she knows the school. She knows the teachers. She has to go there."

"Or used to," Charming contemplates, before he turns to Ella.

She looks at Chad, "How old is she?"

"Seventeen," he answers.

"How do you know that?" his father evenly expresses.

Chad gapes at him, "No. You don't get to fucking do this."

"You're a royal," he reminds him. "You need to be extra careful with whom you date."

"No," Chad yells again. "You told me to find a girl I could at least be friends with, and now one is emailing me and you're saying to stop?"

Ella steps between them, "Both of you calm down." before she turns to Charming. "The guards are monitoring him. If this is some catfish preying on him, we'll know." She faces Chad, "If you start getting serious with this girl, let us know. We're going to want to meet her, before you start dating." She eyes between them, "Would either of you like to add anything?"

Chad's father faces him, "If you sneak out, you're grounded until college."

Chad stares into his eyes, "If I can convince her to come to dinner, will you drop this?"

"If you can get her here," he agrees.

Chad falters, "Ah, um. She kind of has some… issues."

"With food," he recalls. "Bernard told me."

His mother mentions, "We can have a steamed vegetable option."

"No, um." Chad takes a moment, "I don't think she would think the nutritional value is worth it, and dressing would make regular salad too high in calories."

"You know," she settles, "just ask her what she wants. I can put something together."

"I mean," Chad hesitates, "I still need to get her here."

"You will." His father places a hand on his head and ruffles his hair, "Your middle name is Charming, after all. So long as she has nothing to hide, she will be here."

* * *

Chad rereads some of the previous messages, before he types: _My dad doesn't trust you. I think getting some social media might help him think you're real_.

It takes a minute for Beth to answer: _I am real, jackass_.

Chad glances at the guard, before he responds: _I know, but he needs to know too_.

Chad stares at the screen, and after a minute, the guard comments, "Maybe your parents are right. She could be hiding something."

Chad glares at him, "I don't care if she's hiding something. I know her." He watches, as he sees her type. "She's probably only pausing, because she knows I'm being watched."

Beth: _I guess I can get one, but it's for your eyes only. I don't want anyone to find me_.

Chad promises: _Your parents will never know_.

Beth: _You can't promise that_.

Chad takes a moment: _I promise it will be worth it_.

Beth: _If I go down, you're going down with me_.

Chad: _It's going to be forever or it's going to go down in flames_.

Beth: _You can tell me when it's over, if the high was worth the pain_.

Chad: _I've got a long list of ex-lovers. They'll tell you I'm insane_.

Beth: _We're going to take this way too far_.

Chad: _Love's a game. Wanna play?_

Beth takes a minute: _You're the king. I'm your queen_.

Chad: _One more thing. My parents want me to invite you to dinner_.

Beth: _I don't know if that's a good idea_.

Chad: _If I keep talking to you, they're going to insist it_.

She takes another minute: _They're not going to let you date a flat-chested bitch, like me_.

Chad: _So long as I'm dating a girl, they will be happy_.

Beth: _I need to think about this_.

Chad: _Take your time. But they'll want to see you, before I date you_.

Beth: _I do like you, but I don't know if I like you like that_.

Chad: _Isn't that what dating's for? To explore how we feel?_

Beth: _How do you expect us to pull this off?_

Chad: _You're smart, and you have smart friends. I'm sure you can think up something_.

Beth: _But dinner?_

Chad: _They know about the anorexia. They'll make whatever you can stand_.

Beth: _Can't I just bring a smoothie?_

Chad: _I think they want an actual dinner. A long one_.

Beth: _I'm being interrogated, then?_

Chad: _Yes_.

Beth: _As soon as your father sees me, he's going to know who I am_.

Chad: _You mean, a tall, drop dead gorgeous supermodel?_

Beth: _I'm serious_.

Chad: _My dad couldn't even remember my mom's hair color. I think you're safe_.

Beth: _He couldn't remember her hair color?_

Chad: _He thought it could have been red or brown or something_.

Beth: _That doesn't leave many colors_.

Chad: _See. You have nothing to worry about, not that you need to hide anything anyway_.

It takes a minute for her to respond: _You're not getting any nudes_.

Chad agrees: _No. You would definitely be added to his no call list, then_.

Beth: _You're not allowed calls_.

Chad: _Riiight. Send me a magazine_.

Beth: _How about a calendar?_

Chad: _Now. That's hot_.

Beth: _Just no swimsuits_.

Chad: _Nah. I'm definitely going to need to see that_.

Beth: _With a hose? It would blow so hard_.

Chad glances at the guard, before he hides his face with his hand: _I'm not supposed to be objectifying anyone_.

Beth: _Return the favor. Give me something to remember_.

Chad purses his lips, as he eyes up in thought_: If we start dating now, I'm allowed to have sex in six months_.

Beth: _Nice try. I'm not that easy_.


	24. Safety

**Safety **

**(Sunday Noon, August 11****th****)**

"You have your medical card?" the nurse asks. William hands it to her, and she copies the information into the tablet. "Okay." She hands it back to him. "You're now in the system. You may move ahead."

William finds his mother waiting in one of the three lines, and he walks over to it. He reads the sign ahead: _three bag limit per week. You may not choose blood type, expiration date, nor request replacements_. He reads the sign next to it: _beggars cannot be choosers. Any choosiness will be regarded as a sign that you have other options, and you will be terminated from the program. You may reapply after six months have passed_.

William rubs the back of his neck. He's going to take what he's offered, go home to sleep, and wake up to a nice, fresh source. "Next." He walks forward, and the volunteer hands him bag. He looks inside and examines a bag of clotted blood, the strings made apparent as he squeezes it. "Something wrong?"

He forces a smile, "No. Thank you." before he turns around and meets his mother near the door.

She places a hand on his back and guides him into the corridor, "There. Not so bad."

He steps in front of her, opening the bag to find the clotted blood, "Have you ever gotten one this bad before?"

She smiles, "Don't worry. It's edible."

"It looks like a stomachache waiting to happen," he protests.

"Put it in a blender, add a little sugar, and it will be good as new," she promises.

"Maybe I won't need the third one," William thinks, before he hears the click and sees the camera.

"Come on," his mother urges, as she pulls him away. William turns his head back, sees the black figure, and then exits into the white haze.

* * *

"Come on," Brendan knocks again. "Your dinner's being delivered."

"I'm not," William irritably responds, before he opens the door and falters.

He raises the pizza, "Five meat with cheese-stuffed crust."

William frowns, "When you said dinner—"

"I mean," he reminds him, "I'm here too."

"I'm not in the mood," he tiredly states.

"Figured."

He lets him by, "So, you heard?"

Brendan sets the pizza in the center of the bed, "I saw how your mother's coworkers completely backstabbed her."

"She's suspended," he informs. "They don't know how the country is going to react to a vampire reporting human news."

"Then they should have buried the story," he opinionates. "Your mother's been working there for at least ten years. They should be respecting her."

"Since when do you use respect in a sentence?" William points out.

"When it's obvious," he double-downs. "This guy sends sketchy footage of you and your mother standing outside the food shelf with a blood bag, and they just report it? Did they even ask your mother?"

"What do you think?" his eyebrows furrow.

"I think you need to eat." He nods him over, "Come on."

William sits on the other side of the pizza and takes a piece, "She's making me do an interview with her."

"You don't have to, do you?"

"Her job's at stake," he relays. "I have to do it."

"Who would want to work for someone who betrays you?" He suggests, "She should quit. It's not like you need the money."

"I think you're underestimating how high someone's standard of living gets when they've been living on a high income," William reminds him. "The royal salary barely covers the upkeep of the castle, the staff, and my education."

"Then cut it," he easily suggests.

"Cut my education?" he disbelieves.

"No." Brendan cringes, "The other stuff. Downgrade to a mansion. Cut a servant or two. You're an only child, and your family revoked their titles. Why do you have a castle, anyway?"

"Protection," he answers. "Title or not, we're still high status."

"With the right security system, a mansion is just as protection." He frustrates, "You don't need a river. That thing's a bitch to cross in the rainy season."

"I guess, it's a little much," William considers, and Brendan's eyebrows rise. "Okay. A little lot. What does it matter? Security's security. I'd rather have too much than too little."

He deeply breathes, "There are worse things."

"Want to talk about worse things?" He walks over to the side of his desk to open the top of the mini fridge. "This is what they're expecting us to drink."

When he tosses the blood bag to him, Brendan examines it and gags, "And I thought blood couldn't get any more gross."

"My mom says it's edible," William informs, as he walks over to him.

"And you believed her?" He hands it back to him, "I promise if you get a second donor, I won't accuse you of cheating on me."

William laughs, "Funny." before he goes to put the blood bag back in the freezer.

"Why not?" he encourages.

"You're only allowed one legal donor," he reminds him. "That's why Ben is so opposed to it. It's like a marriage."

"And I'm telling you to cheat on me." William frowns at him, and he insists, "You have needs. I understand."

"Oh. Shut up," he grins, before he sits back on the bed and continues the pizza. "How's this for cheating? I'm having a fivesome."

* * *

"You got the virus from your mother," the reporter reiterates. "Did you know it's illegal to pass the virus on to someone else?"

"The virus was passed during the pregnancy," William's mother interrupts. "I didn't choose for him to have it."

"But you could have refrained from having children," he suggests.

"It's not illegal for someone with medical conditions to have children," she states.

"Of course, not." He presumes, "However, you must have thought about it."

She takes a minute, "It's not guaranteed that the virus will pass on to your child, and the life I live is not bad. I wanted a family, and I didn't think the risk of my baby having the virus would make any significant difference."

"William," he addresses. "What do you think? Is the life you have worth the struggle or would you have rather never existed?"

He frowns, "I agree with my mother. My life isn't that bad."

"Not that bad," he repeats. "That's not a very joyful answer."

"Well," William mentions, "it is a little unfortunate that I won't be able to play tourney in college now that people know I have an athletic advantage."

"To be fair," the reporter pinpoints, "it's not a good idea for someone with a bloodborne disease to play a contact sport competitively."

William's eyes narrow, "I've heard that argument before."

"Will," his mother emphasizes. "Patience is a virtue." He leans forward, staring at the reporter, and the man pulls at the neck of his tie. "Play the long game," she interprets, and William sits back against the couch.

"So," the man uncomfortably continues, "the picture showed you with a blood bag outside of the food shelf. That means you're on the program, doesn't it?"

"Yes," he answers.

"And what do you think of it?" he continues.

William glances at his mom, before he faces the reporter, "I am so lucky that the resource exists, so I do not need to endure the pain like my mother did."

* * *

William frowns when he opens the door, and Brendan comments, "If that processed blood is as good as you say, then I guess we'll need a divorce."

He glares at him, "If I said it tasted like a mercury thermometer, I would have lost it as an option. I need to have a backup."

Brendan sighs, "You looked like you were going to kill that reporter. I'm here to ask you if you want dinner. Again."

"It's Monday," he starts.

"You didn't drink yesterday," he reminds him. "You can get back on track next week."

"I could use a pick-me-up," William considers.

"Okay, then," Brendan agrees, but William doesn't move. He notices his intense stare, "Hey. We should sit down." William fails to respond, and he tries to smile, "To do this, you need to move."

"I will," he stresses. "In a minute."

"William. Just," he starts, as he squeezes between him and the doorframe; however, William grabs his arms and pushes him to the wall. Brendan notices his tense nervousness, "William. We need to sit down."

"Just give me a second," he irritably replies, glancing at his neck.

"If you do this, you're going to get us both in trouble," Brendan reminds him.

"The wrist is so slow," he complains.

"You just need more experience," Brenden mentions, before William inches forward. "And it's safer. They do check-ins."

"It hasn't been a month, yet," William informs. "They won't know."

"Unless I tell them," Brendan warns, and William looks over him. "I'm not comfortable with you biting into my neck. My safety is more important. Don't you agree?" William fails to answer, and Brendan falters, "That wasn't supposed to be hard to think about. We're friends, remember? You said you cared before."

"I do care."

"Then listen to me," he pleads. "Let's sit down and do this properly."

"I want to," William slowly replies.

Brendan shakes his head, "But what? You want to take a millisecond to think about drinking me dry?"

"I'm not going to do it," he reassures.

"You're trying to convince yourself you won't," Brendan notices. "Let me make it easier for you." He meets his eyes, "I'm your donor, so you have to do what I say. And if you don't, you can forget about the government letting you get another legal donor. You will have to worry about scrounging around for blood and whether they cry assault or not."

"You're right," William accepts. "I'm lucky to have you—as both a friend and a donor— and I don't want to do anything that could jeopardize that."

"Then why are you acting like this?"

William shakes his head, "I don't know. I just wanted to… I'm sorry."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 07/29/2020


	25. Violated

**Violated **

**(Tuesday Afternoon, August 13****th****)**

"Oh," Ella hands the letter to Chad. "We got your school schedule."

He puts down the fork to take it, "This was delivered two weeks ago."

"Was it?" his mother strains a smile.

"Yeah." Chad holds it up, "And who opened it?" His parents give each other a look, before Chad shakes his head and unfolds the papers. "No." His heart pounds, as he grits his teeth, "No. No. This isn't right."

"We know you're not a fan of Professor Hawthorne right now," his father recognizes.

"I asked to take Astronomy instead of Biology," Chad infuriates. "And Jenkins was supposed to teach those health classes."

"Biology is a requirement for graduation," his mother reminds him.

"That's not the point," Chad frustrates. "I was hoping to go the year without seeing his smug face, and now he's in charge of three of my classes?"

"You've had this all planned out since grade school," his father frowns, "becoming more concrete and realistic each year." Chad narrows his eyes, and he continues, "You were so sure this is what you wanted."

"Well, maybe I want something else now," Chad rebuttals.

"You have to follow your dreams," his mother insists. "It's important that you're happy. You can't let anyone get in the way of that."

"So," Chad analyzes, "you're saying that I should sneak out to see Ben?"

"Does that mean you know where he is?" his father asks.

Chad doubles down, "If you wanted me to be happy, you wouldn't be grounding me for having feelings."

When Charming starts to speak, Ella places a hand on his arm. He stops himself, and she faces Chad, "You can't back out of a class just because you don't like the teacher."

Chad stands from his seat, "Watch me." before he turns away.

"If you don't finish your meal," his father retaliates, "we will lock the weight's room tomorrow."

"I don't care," Chad shouts, as the guard follows him out of the dining hall.

"He's not going to listen to us," Charming notices.

"Maybe he'll listen to someone else," she suggests.

* * *

When Chad opens the door, he sees Brendan and William, "I'm not allowed to talk to anyone right now."

"Your parents wanted us to remind you to keep the door open," Brendan mentions.

William smiles at him, "Probably thinks we want to make our marriage interesting."

"Marriage?" Chad questions.

"Inside joke," William explains.

Brendan looks over him, "I've decided you're not skipping any more feeding sessions."

"What?" William frowns.

"I like you better when you feel better." Brendan announces, "From now on, I expect you to stay this way."

"But, what if—" he thinks.

"No what ifs," Brendan declares. "When you eat, you can take a joke. I'd rather have that than have you bite my head off for trying to make one."

"You're going to get sick," William reminds him. "Your plan's not going to work."

"Hey," he recalls. "Didn't you say you were going to ask Carlos?"

"Right," William slowly says, before he meets his eyes. "Aziz has this absurd idea that Carlos could be some kind of carnivore."

"But he's donated to carnivores before," Brendan disproves.

"I'm just saying what I heard," William backtracks.

"Um. Hello," Chad makes himself known, and they turn towards him. "Uh, yeah. I'm still here, and this is still my palace. So, either get the fuck on with it or leave." He pauses, "Please."

They step inside, and William comments, "We heard you want to drop three of your classes, because Hawthorne's the professor."

"Don't tell me my parents decided I'm allowed to talk to my friends under the condition that they convince me to take classes from such an, uh, backpfeingesicht," Chad warns.

"And what makes him deserve a slap?" William asks.

"Because," Chad enforces. "He is."

"And I'm asking why," William irritably replies. "You can't just call someone something like that without a reason."

"It's the way he acts," Chad argues. "He's so greedy and pompous."

Brendan steps forward, "You don't even know what that means."

"I know it suits him," Chad defends. "All he does is take and take, and he always wants more. He's a predator."

"Predator?" Brendan points out, "Isn't that a bit much?"

"No. I don't," Chad protests. "Don't you think it's a little weird how involved he gets with his students: giving food to the tourney team, offering his personal advice, and sending so many emails?"

"He's just being supportive," William evenly answers, "and five emails isn't really a lot."

"It's been way more than five," Chad disbelieves.

William looks at Brendan, "Wasn't it just the reading list, class material list, and those summer events?"

"And the field trip reminder," Brendan adds.

"That's only four emails," William counts.

"He only sent you four emails?" Chad whispers.

Brendan turns towards him, "Maybe he sent you a few more, because you're in more of his classes."

Chad stares, and William mentions, "It probably just feels like a lot because of all those, um, candies you eat."

Chad's heart picks up, as he mutters, "Get out."

"Chad," Brendan starts.

"No," Chad steps forward. "If I'm so damn lucky, then it doesn't matter what I do and you don't need to worry about me." He points, "Get out. Now."

"Okay," William quietly agrees, before they back towards the door.

When they enter the hall, Brendan suggests, "You really should cut down on the candy."

Chad shuts the door, walks over to the computer, and he notices the new email. He deletes it, goes to his trash box, and erases every email that wasn't from Hawthorn. There's dozens of them, and he knew there would be. He's not crazy. It's not the drugs. He's been getting sent multiple emails every week. "Prince Chad," the guard addresses.

"Don't," Chad quietly commands. Even if he showed his friends these emails, they'd still think Hawthorne's a good guy. All Hawthorne's done is try to help him, and Chad's lucky for having so many people who care about him.

"You should save those," Bernard advises.

Chad confesses, "I'm tired of looking at them." before he empties the trash and heads towards the bathroom. He closes the door, does his business, and then finds the mints' case. He takes the pills out, crushes them, and then takes them in. He'd been there when Chad had been sent to the hospital, after Mal had paralyzed him. He just wanted to help.

"Prince Chad?" the guard checks. Chad wipes his nose, the world slowing, before he opens the door. "Do you want to talk?"

"I want to sleep," Chad murmurs. The guard opens his mouth, and Chad shakes his head, "Why are you still in my way? Your job is to keep me safe, not sleep deprived."

"You've been sleeping a lot," he recognizes.

"Seriously," Chad's eyes droop. "I'm too tired for this. Let me pass, before you have to carry me."

"We need to tell your father about this," he encourages.

"And he'd believe me," Chad sadly laughs. "Hawthorne used to me my favorite teacher, and I have homosexual inclinations. I probably just imagined it happened, because I wanted it. Hawthorne's such a great person. There's no way he would ever… I'm tired."

"Prince Chad." He asks, "What did Hawthorne do?"

"Nothing I couldn't do to you," Chad half smiles, as he stands on his tiptoes, clutches the guard's shirt, and moves his fingers into the guard's waistband. Bernard takes Chad's hand from him, Chad falls, and he catches him in his arms. He carries him over to the bed and coves him with the light blanket. "Why does my dad trust me with you, if he thinks I'm so horrible?"

"Age," he admits. "He knows he can trust me, and you can't take advantage of me."

"I could if I wanted to," Chad denies.

"Good night, Your Highness," he evenly expresses, before he heads for the door.

"Wait," Chad notices. "Don't go."

"I will be right out the door," he promises, before he exits the room. He moves down the corridor, crosses the gallery, and then sees them in the living room. Bernard speaks, "Your Highness?"

The television silences, and the light turns on. Charming comments, "You're supposed to be guarding Chad."

"He's sleeping," the guard informs.

"This early?" Ella inquires, "Are you sure?"

"He's exhausted." The guard's frown deepens, "There's something I've learned that I think you should be made aware of."

"Take a seat," Charming offers, and the guard heads for the armchair. "What's this about? Is it Beth?"

"No." Bernard takes a moment, "Earlier today, Chad and his friends had an argument about Professor Hawthorne."

"Yes," Charming notes. "They told me it didn't go very well."

"They were arguing over the number of emails Hawthorne had sent them," the guard continues. "His friends insisted that there were at most five; however, when I saw Chad's email, he'd saved up to four times as many."

"Twenty emails from his teacher?" Charming questions.

"The subject lines were very basic," Bernard mentions, "but Chad's been receiving emails from this professor on a weekly basis, if not more."

"Oh, Charming," Ella takes his arm.

"This doesn't mean anything," Charming evenly expresses. "Chad's shown interest in the classes. Professor Hawthorne might just have been sending more resources."

"In any case," Bernard enlightens, "it's caused Prince Chad a lot of distress. I recommend that the school steps in to settle this."

"We can talk to Fairy Godmother," Charming agrees.

"Wait." Ella asks, "Why wouldn't he have just told us this?"

"He's afraid you won't believe him," he answers.

"But he has the emails," Charming counters.

"Not anymore," Bernard interrupts. "He deleted them from the trash bin. They won't be easy to recover."

"I still don't understand," Charming shakes his head. "Why wouldn't he tell us?"

When Bernard fails to respond, Ella looks at him, "Do you know something?"

He hesitates, "I'm unsure of the details, but I'm under the impression that Hawthorne has made Chad feel violated somehow. When I asked what he did, Chad said he could do the same to me. Right before…"

"Before what?" Charming cautiously enforces.

"Prince Chad tried to kiss me," he finishes.

"Meaning," Ella falters, "that Professor Hawthorne tried to kiss Chad?"

Charming shakes his head, "I'm not doing this."

"But Charming," she seriously starts.

He faces her, "Chad has a history of overreacting and placing the problems he has onto other people."

"He's our son," she reminds him.

"He just seduced a nurse," he reminds her, "possibly to get drugs."

"We would have found them by now," she denies, "and that has nothing to do with the emails Bernard says he saw."

"And we will talk to Fairy Godmother about that," he accepts, "but I refuse to believe a happily married man with a successful career would jeopardize all that to assault a prince." She folds her hands, and he faces Bernard, "Thank you for your honesty. Do you desire a change in post after Chad's inappropriate actions?"

"No," Bernard answers. "I know he has no inappropriate feelings for me."

"He didn't have any feelings for the nurse either," he points out. "Are you sure?"

"I think he trusts me now," Bernard mentions. "It's important for him to have that."

"Did he manage to kiss you?" he prods.

"No," he shakes his head.

"Good," Charming stares him down. "Make sure he doesn't. If he does, your post will change whether you want it to or not."

Bernard nods, "Understood, Your Highness."


	26. Class

**Class **

**(Wednesday Afternoon, August 14****th****)**

"Pumpkin?" Ella knocks, before she enters the room. She sees Chad lying in bed and turns to the daytime guard, "Derek. Has he been up at all?"

"Only to use the bathroom," he informs.

Ella walks over to the bed and touches Chad's shoulder, "Pumpkin?"

"It's summer," he complains.

"It's two in the afternoon," she adds. "It's time to wake up."

"I'm tired," he complains.

"You need to eat," she instructs, before she sets the cup on his nightstand. "Here. I thought apple crisp would be a nice, enticing breakfast for you." Chad opens his eyes, before he turns to take a bite. "You're not going to ask how much fat is in it?"

"I don't care," Chad answers, before he shuts his eyes again.

"Pumpkin. Can you sit up for me? I'd like to talk."

"Then talk," he invites.

"I want to ask you about Professor Hawthorne." Chad pulls the blanket above his shoulder, and she suggests, "Did something happen?"

"No," Chad firmly replies.

She moves the hair from his face, "Pumpkin."

He squeezes his eyes shut, "I said nothing happened." before he turns onto his other side. "Is that it, then? Because, I was having this really cool dream about this hot chick."

She moves a hand over his head, "Let me know when you're hungry. I can make you something special."

"I'm really not hungry," he whispers.

"I know." She solemnly smiles, "But I want you to know I'm here if you need me."

"I don't want to be in his classes," Chad whimpers. "Get me out of it. Please."

"Maybe you don't need to attend the classes to be in them," she considers. "We can discuss options with Fairy Godmother."

"I hate him so much," Chad stammers. "He makes me question…" He takes a deep breath, "Everything." She reaches for his shoulder and feels him shake. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"Your mind is very much intact," she reassures.

"Then why am I grounded?" Chad counters. "Even you and Dad think there's something wrong with me. And maybe there is. Maybe I just like getting attention, and people can see that."

"You're grounded, because it gives you opportunity to reflect and grow," she informs. "That doesn't make you wrong in any way, and wanting attention is a normal thing." He fails to respond, and she comments, "There are going to be people who will want to take advantage of your sociability, but we're here to help you."

He sadly laughs, "It's a little too late for that."

"Pumpkin," she says again.

"I don't need your help," he spats. "I want to be left alone." He cuddles against the pillow, "I wish everyone would just leave me alone."

* * *

"What are you doing?" Charming asks, as he sees Ella spread icing across the cake.

"Something happened," she insists. "I know it did."

"We don't know anything, yet," Charming counters, and she twirls around.

Her eyes glisten, "I said we were here for him, and he said it was too late. What does that sound like to you?" She sets the spatula down to wipe the tears from her face, "He's blaming it on his attention-seeking behavior. He thinks it's his fault."

He places his hands on her arms, "I promise, whatever's going on, we're going to figure it out. Everything's going to be fine."

"But if it happened," she starts.

"Ella," he tries to reason.

"Then the damage is already done," she finishes.

"And cake's supposed to help that?" he points out.

"The school doesn't even officially open until the eighteenth," she stresses. "It's going to be a full week before we can even talk to Fairy Godmother about this, and I can't just stand here and watch him disappear into himself."

"Well, he's not going to eat cake," Charming reminds her.

"That's the thing." She explains, "I gave him an apple crisp for breakfast, and he didn't even ask how much fat was in it."

"So, he was hungry," he reasons.

She stares at him, "If you make one more excuse for Chad's behavior, I'm ungrounding him. He needs to know we're on his side."

"If he's as depressed as you think he is," Charming comments, "then the last thing he needs is to be left alone."

"I just wish we could help him somehow."

"He was happy when he was chatting with that girl," Charming suggests.

"That was before he found out he's been assigned three classes with this teacher, who's been emailing him all summer," she reminds him. "This isn't going to stop until that does."

Charming pauses, "When we meet with Fairy Godmother, we need to know exactly what we're accusing this professor of."

"We're accusing him of sending our son constant emails," she states.

"Bernard said the subject lines were innocent," he reminds her.

"But it was summer vacation," she persists. "The number of emails he's sent is inappropriate. Bernard also said Chad's friends didn't get nearly as many."

"Okay," Charming settles. "How about you get dinner together, while I try to get Chad out of bed. We can ask him exactly what he thinks Hawthorne's intentions were."

"I don't want to put him through that again," she inputs.

"But if something has happened," he puts forth, "then Fairy Godmother needs to know." She eyes down, and he calmly comments, "If Professor Hawthorne really did hurt Chad, then he will come forward."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because," Charming justifies, "if Hawthorne assaulted a student, he won't be able to teach at the school. If that's why Chad doesn't want to take his classes, he will tell us."

"And if he doesn't?" she questions.

He shrugs, "Then maybe it's not as simple as a teacher preying on a student."

* * *

"Here." Charming lays the outfit on Chad's bed, "Take a shower, and I will let you out of the palace for a few hours."

"Really?" Chad murmurs.

"Well, I'd be with you," he adds, "but we can go to the museum, the park, or the theater."

"How about the zoo?" Chad asks.

"We can do that," his father agrees, "but it's getting late. You will need to get ready quick."

Chad takes a deep breath, as he finds his clothes, "Okay. I'm showering."

"You don't seem happy," Charming notices, as Chad looks at the lions.

"No. I'm happy," he frowns.

"Chad." He waits for him to face him, "I want to talk about Hawthorne."

Chad shakes his head, "No."

"When we schedule the meeting with Fairy Godmother, I need to know what we're telling her," he explains. "What did Hawthorne do?"

"Nothing," Chad eyes away.

"Please," he calmly persists. "I want to understand."

Chad folds his arms, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Chad," he continues.

"Why are you punishing me?" Chad yells, as his shiny eyes meet him. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Look," he enforces. "We can either talk about it or we can go."

"Then let's go," he quietly cries, before he turns around and leaves.

* * *

When he meets Chad at the car, Charming hands him the large drink, "I got you a lemon icy." Chad takes it and sips, as his father notices the redness in his face. "I'm sorry for pushing, but if something happened, it's important that we know."

Chad tugs the straw up-and-down, listening to the scratchy squeak, "He was my favorite teacher, and I trusted him. Nothing in my life made sense, and I thought he could give a scientific answer." Chad's head lowers more, "I told him everything about me, and it felt like he understood…"

When Chad fails to continue, he prompts, "And then what?"

"I'm not sure." Chad shakes his head, "He said he wanted to help, but it didn't feel like help. I just don't know why… he's like completely obsessed with me, and I don't know how to stop it." He cries, "Every email, just a reminder that he's there. And now he's somehow taken over two of Jenkins's classes?"

"You think he took those classes to get to you?" his father deduces.

"Why else would he?" Chad whispers. "He already teaches Biology, Anatomy, Life Science, Botany, and Engineering. Oh. And that new Virology class he made up. How the fuck does he have the time to teach my health classes too? And why my classes? The school offers a dozen separate health courses."

"I promise you," his father reassures, "we're going to get to the bottom of this."

* * *

"He didn't say anything else?" she asks.

"You were expecting him to say he was assaulted," Charming notes.

"That's what it was sounding like," she answers.

"Well, he's obviously afraid it will happen," Charming accepts, "but shouldn't we be happy that it hasn't?"

She pulls the bedsheet over the corner of the bed, "I want Hawthorne out of that school."

"Ella," Charming starts.

"No. I will not wait for him to explain himself," she answers. "Hawthorne's a very successful man. He can lose his teaching license and still keep his career." Charming places his hands on her shoulders, and she faces him, "He got Chad to open up about things that he was never willing to tell us, and he somehow convinced Chad not to tell us about him."

"We don't know that," Charming says again, and she sighs. "For all we know Chad… you know… admired him. He might not have told us, simply because he was embarrassed."

"No embarrassment should make him think being in danger is a good idea." She takes a minute, "What are we doing, Charming, if our own son feels safer under the gaze of a predator than our parenting?"

"Possible predator," Charming corrects.

She sternly eyes him, "We're doing something wrong. You have to know that."

"Or, maybe, we're doing something right," Charming suggests. "Males are less likely to report sexual assault, and Chad's going to be king of Charmington. He must feel really insecure about asking for help. We're lucky he did before anything worse happened."

She takes a deep breath, "I still don't feel right about any of this."

"Of course, you don't," Charming understands. "Our son is still in danger. We're not going to feel right about it, until we find out what Hawthorne's intentions were and we make sure he stops placing all this stress on Chad."

"I don't want him dorming at that school, not until we know it's safe."

"Well, he won't be." Charming reminds her, "He's still grounded. He will be commuting there until his birthday."

"Right," she recalls.

"I know you're not sure about it," he acknowledges, "but knowing what we know now…"

"It's safer," she agrees.


	27. Get Over It

**Get Over It **

**(Thursday Night, August 15****th****)**

Chad: _You need a profile picture._

Beth: _Yeah. I'm getting to it._

Chad: _When do I get a picture?_

Beth takes a minute: _I'm getting a new outfit soon. Maybe your parents will let me over._

Chad: _They still want you here for dinner._

Beth: _Can we not have dinner?_

Chad laughs, and his father comes in, "Still up?"

"I slept a lot this week," he murmurs.

His father walks towards him, "Sorry. I didn't hear that."

Chad twirls the office chair towards him, "I said I've slept enough this week." before he glances down. "It's still all I want to do."

"You will feel better after we figure out what the teacher wants with you," he reassures.

"Isn't that obvious?" Chad unenthusiastically comments, but his father fails to respond. "Dad?"

The computer dings, and he points, "Beth. How is she doing?"

"What?" Chad whispers.

"Didn't you say her parents are strict?" he recalls. "I'm surprised they're letting her stay up until midnight."

"Yeah," Chad slowly replies, before he turns back to the computer. "I don't know what's up with that."

His father watches him type his response, "What are you talking about?"

"She's trying to get out of the dinner," he frowns.

"If she's trying to get out of it—"

"No." Chad turns towards him, "She wants to come."

"Then what's the issue?" he questions.

He sighs, "The dinner. She wants to bring a smoothie instead."

"A smoothie?" His father's brows furrow, "I thought she's been in the hospital. What's she still drinking shakes for?"

"Dad," Chad's voice raises. "Just because she's willing to talk about it, doesn't mean I know everything. Okay? I'm not her. I don't know what's going on in her head."

"You're right," he nods. "You know, it's just that food is such an important part of life. It's not just something that helps you live. It's something that gathers people. It's the simple things people bond over."

"Maybe that's the problem," Chad analyses. "For her it isn't. It's stressful."

"But it shouldn't have to be," he insists.

The computer dings again, and Chad faces his father, "What about Ben? He has similar problems. Would you tell him to just not be stressed over food?"

His father takes a moment, "How about we go out for dinner, that smoothie shop?"

"What?" Chad falters.

"The smoothie shop you go to all the time," he grins, "that has those protein shakes you love. We could show her the place, give her some healthy options." Chad stares, and his expression falters, "Unless, you think the calories will put her off."

"I don't want to go there," Chad breathes, as his heart pounds.

"Why not?"

The computer dings, and his eyes widen, "I just don't want to."

His father steps forward, "Chad. What's wrong?" He sat across from him, the corners of his mouth cracked into a snake smile. "Chad?" There's no reason to be nervous. It's just human nature. "Chad. What happened?" The computer dings, the guard scoots closer, and his father reaches for his shoulder, "Hey."

He flinches and then shouts, "Can everyone shut up?"

His father's frown deepens, "Chad."

"Sorry. You know, I think I am tired," Chad excuses, before he turns back to the laptop. "Let me just wrap this up, and I'll get to sleep."

"Chad," he starts.

"I take all my girlfriends there," Chad interrupts. "I just don't want to do that to her."

"Except that this started out as a dinner—not a date—and that shop is highly regarded for its nutritional value," he reminds him. "If you like her, you would want to give her the option."

"I do," Chad assures.

"Then tell me the real reason you don't want to go," he persists.

Chad places a hand to his head, "I'm too tired to talk about this."

He watches him quickly wipe the fallen tears from his cheeks, "I know that it's hard, but we need to talk about this."

"No," Chad rejects, passing him to get to his wardrobe.

His father follows, "I can't protect you if you won't tell me what's going on." and Chad shakes his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm going to bed," Chad settles, as he grabs his pajamas and heads for the bathroom.

His father strides after him; however, the door closes, and Chad sits against the other side. "Why can't you just talk to me?"

"I told you," Chad comments, "after I got grounded. I'm never being honest with either of you again."

He pauses, "You didn't tell me that."

"You. Mom. It doesn't matter," Chad rationalizes. "You've always been so reasonable, but I knew. I knew that you wouldn't want me like this."

"That's not fair," Charming begins.

"And what's fair?" Chad cries, "I talked to Hawthorne, because I knew I couldn't trust you. But he betrayed me, and you still found out."

"Chad." His father softly replies, "I want to help."

Chad shakily breathes, "You can't help me. No one can." He gulps, "Maybe I should be sent to the Isle. The only person who wants me here is…"

"Hey," his father asserts. "I want you here."

"Do you?" Chad speculates. "I was so much trouble, you didn't want any more children, and now your only heir might not have any heirs."

"What about that girl?" he reminds him. "I thought you liked Beth."

"Yeah," Chad stresses, "but she can't have kids."

"Just because she has anorexia," he starts.

"It's more than that," Chad seriously responds.

After a moment of quiet, Charming comments, "There's other ways to have an heir."

"Like fucking some girl who looks like her?" Chad continues for him.

"Or you can offer another royal's child to take over your position like Ben has listed in his will," Charming considers.

"So, I could be king and not need an heir?" Chad examines.

"It's a possibility," he accepts.

Chad swings the door open, "Then why the fuck do you need me to date a girl?"

"Don't you think you would be happier if your relationship legal and open to the public?" his father figures.

"I would be happy if people quit fucking with me," Chad shouts, before he points to the door. "Get out."

"Chad."

"This is my room," he hollers, before he blinks and tears flood from his eyes. "And I want you out of here."

His father nods, "Alright." before he leaves and walks towards the door.

Chad glances at the guard, before he shuts the door and moves to the sink. He takes the icebreakers from the drawer, turns on the facet, and then downs two pills with a cupped hand of water. The quiet invades his hears, as he looks in the mirror. He takes out another pill, stares at it, and then puts it back. He hides the mints' case, exits the bathroom, and then sits in front of his computer. He pulls up the karaoke version of the song, gets the recording software going, and then frowns into the camera, "Sorry for going MIA, but I've been grounded." He takes a drink of water, "For very shitty reasons." before he clears his throat. "Sorry. I haven't been doing my singing exercises, but I'm really in a mood, so…" He takes a deep breath, "We're trying something a little different today. This is Avril Lavigne. Get over it."

* * *

"I thought we told Chad to stay clear of social media," Charming comments, as the notification reaches his phone.

"So long as the guard watches him, I'm fine with it," Ella inputs.

"Well, he posted a new video," Charming informs, before he sits next to her and plays it.

"We're grounding him for good reasons," she disagrees.

"He's singing a song about it?" he disbelieves.

After a moment, she hesitates, "This sounds like…"

"It's not about us grounding him," he agrees. He watches the tear fall to Chad's cheek, before his position changes. "He couldn't make it through in one try."

After Charming finishes replaying the song, he sighs, "It's about Hawthorne."

"You sure?" Ella asks, and he faces her. "You're the one who had doubts."

"Chad said he went to Hawthorne during a very depressing time, told him some very sensitive information," Charming analyzes. "This song is about more than just assault. It's about someone lying about their intentions, betraying you."

"And wanting to pretend that it never happened," Ella interprets.

"I need to talk to him again." Charming stands from the table, "Coming?" She takes another sip of coffee, stands from her seat, and they exit the Hall.

When they find him in the weight's room, his mother reminds him, "I thought I told you no weights before eating."

"Fine," Chad compromises, before he drops them and heads over to the treadmill.

His father sighs before heading over, "Chad." The treadmill starts, and he pushes the pause button.

"What the," Chad infuriates.

"I can't hear you with it on," his father explains.

Chad steps off and furrows his brows at him, "What is it?"

"Our conversation last night," he explains. "I really do want you to trust me."

"And the video I posted prompted this?" Chad presumes, and his father fails to respond. "How predictable. You're so fucking unbelievable."

He takes a minute, "The song was about Hawthorne, wasn't it?"

"Why assume that?" Chad shakes his head, "Maybe it was about Ben. That's what everyone else thinks."

"But I know better," his father evenly expresses, "and I want you to be able to tell me—" He notices his wife and gestures to her, "Us why."

Chad stares, "Those songs are just how I feel. It doesn't have to mean anything."

"But your feelings do matter," his mother proclaims, and Chad rolls his eyes. "All we want is your happiness."

"That's a lie," Chad yells, before he heads for the door.

His father races him to it, and Chad halts in front of him. "We still need to talk about this. What did Hawthorne do to make you feel this way?"

"You know what?" Chad dissolves, "If this is how it's going to be with the interrogations and everything, then maybe I don't want to say he did anything. It's not like it would matter. He still knows me, knows where to find me. He talks to me, no one blinks an eye. Does something, no one cares. No one believes me."

"I want to change that."

"Why would you believe me?" Chad deeply breathes. "I told you I was never going to tell you the truth again."

"You wouldn't lie about this," he reasons.

"But that kid that accused Audrey's reverend would," he reminds him, and his father gapes. "But, I guess, that's just because he wasn't a real Christian, but I haven't been going to church. I haven't even prayed. So, what does that make me?"

"I'm sorry."

Chad's eyes widen, "Get out of my way, before I do something that is worth grounding."

"Chad," he starts. "I didn't realize how personal that was for you."

He grits his teeth, "I said get out of my way."

"If I'd known," Charming continues.

Chad hits his chest, "I said," before he does the same with the other. "Get. Out of. My way." His father catches his fists, before he spins him around with his arms crossed. "No." Chad squirms, "I said no!" but he hadn't. He didn't say a word.

His father holds him, and Chad cries. "I believe you. You hear me? I believe you."

His mother walks over and places a hand to his cheek, "We're going to take care of this."


	28. Dreams

**Dreams**

**(Saturday Night, August 17****th****)**

Beth: _My parents treat me like crap, and then they wonder why I do this shit. I'm not going to some clinic to recover, only to go back and have nothing change. I can't do this anymore. I have to make my own life, get a real job, and move out._

Chad: _Do you think you'll get better if you move out?_

Beth: _All I know is I can't stay here. My parents don't even need to say anything. All I have to do is look at them, and I'm reminded of everything that's wrong with me._

Bernard questions, "Is it good for her to be alone right now?"

Chad types: _Would you be moving into an apartment or something?_

Beth: _I'll probably just look for adds for roommates._

Chad: _Guy or girl?_

Beth: _Well, a girl's not going to harass me._

Chad: _Right_.

Beth: _How are you doing?_

Chad lightly taps the keyboard, and Bernard advises, "You're not obligated to tell her."

Chad answers: _My parents have a conference with Fairy Godmother tomorrow._

Beth: _What about?_ Chad rubs his neck. Beth continues to type: _You're not leaving the school, are you?_

Chad: _I almost wish I could._

Beth: _What's going on?_

Chad: _A teacher's been ambushing me emails all summer. But he's such a great person, you know, so my parents want to talk it out._

Beth takes a minute: _Are you okay?_

Chad: _All I know is I tried to get out of the class I had with him, and now I have three._

Beth: _Maybe Fairy Godmother did that. You can get it changed._

Chad: _I don't want to change my classes. I want him out of my life. He thinks he can fish for my secrets and then hang me on a hook to rot. Well, he's wrong_. Chad sniffles and then adds: _He won't have to hang me if I hang myself first._

Beth: _If you do that, you won't be able to see any pictures of me._

Chad immediately replies: _Pictures?_

Beth: _I was hoping to have that dinner with you next week. I have the outfit picked out and everything._

Chad: _Next Saturday night?_

Beth: _Sure_.

Chad: _Can I have the pictures now?_

Beth: _Not if you're going to hang yourself._

Chad: _Don't flatter yourself. I just want to prove to my parents that you exist._

Beth: _Tell me how the conference goes with the teacher and then maybe I will._

Chad: _I don't even know if I'm going to go. It's not like anything I say is going to be taken seriously. _

Beth: _Hawthorne might be popular, but he's not a royal. Your word means more._

Chad: _How did you know it was Hawthorne?_

Beth: _Because. You hate his guts. At least, now, I know why. What did he do? This started long before summer started._

Chad: _He_. Chad glances at the bodyguard before erasing the message. He writes: _I just hate how much attention he gives me. _

Beth: _Maybe he thinks you're talented._

Chad: _I don't care why he's interested in me. If he's going to trick his students into going on a date with him, then_… Chad glances at Bernard, shaking his head, before he finishes: _Then he doesn't need to be a fucking teacher_. Chad's heart beats fast, as he waits for her to respond.

Beth: _He tricked you into going on a date? How does that even work?_

Chad: _One of my followers contacted me about a song I did. I thought it was just some girl looking for an excuse to see me. He knew Ben and me broke up or whatever the fucking term is, so he asked if I wanted to meet to talk about it._

Beth: _I'm sorry… Did you try telling Ben that?_

Chad: _Nah. He always has his own stuff going on_. He sends the message and then continues: _Not that it matters. Hawthorne's done a lot to screw my head up. That was just the scariest. I tried to leave so fast, I almost got hit by a car._

Beth: _Do your parents know about that?_

Chad: _I can't tell them. If they found out, I'd never be allowed alone on social media ever again. My life would end then and there._

Beth: _I think you should say something. As much as I'd like to believe the school isn't vetting pedophiles, that's crossing a line._

Chad: _Hawthorne would just spin it. I shouldn't even be there._

Beth: _You need a voice. You're the only one who knows what happened. You're the only one who can speak out about it_.

* * *

When Chad's eyes open, the tall man hovers over the bed. "Perfect specimen." Chad tries to scoot away, but his arms won't move. Hawthorne moves onto the bed and places his knees on either side of his legs before slipping his hand inside the pajama pants. Chad's heart beats fast, his chest heavy, as he tries to speak out; however, no words leave his throat. He eyes away and sees Bernard sitting in the chair. Why isn't he doing anything? As loud as he tries to yell, nothing comes out; however, he's wrong, and Hawthorne removes his hand from him. Chad's eyes follow the teacher to the door, before the man cracks the door open, the light slashes into the room, and the snake slips away.

The heaviness releases from Chad's chest, his breath releases, and he stretches his fingers. He lifts his arms and scoots up the pillows. "Prince Chad." The guard still sits in the chair. "Are you alight?"

"Get out," Chad shouts.

"Prince Chad," Bernard tries to reason.

"I said get out!" The guard nods, standing from his seat, and then steps out of the room. Chad wipes the wetness from his cheeks. How could the guard let Hawthorne do that, and why couldn't he move? He must have been slipped something— unless it wasn't even real. What was that sleep paralysis called? Was there a term for that? He pushes his hair back. He was hallucinating. Hawthorne's close enough to a demon, he supposes.

"Pumpkin?" his mother inquiries, as she slowly enters the room. "Are you okay?" Chad scoots back under the covers, and she walks towards him, stepping on the dice before removing her foot from the protective circle. "I thought we told you to put your toys away."

Chad's eyes shift. It really was a hallucination. "No one can touch me if they're there."

"I thought you were starting to get along with Bernard. Do you not trust him?" It's not that he doesn't trust him. He just can't afford to trust anyone after last time. "I know you told him to leave. Was it really a nightmare?"

Chad clings to the covers. "It was like I was awake, but I wasn't. I couldn't move. It was just like…"

She removes the foldable table and pushes the toys to either side, before she kneels by his side. "Just like what?"

"Like when Mal poisoned me last year. I couldn't defend myself."

She gapes. "What do you mean, when Mal poisoned you last year?"

"You know," he starts. "She's a dragon, and Ben was her territory. She used her reptile spit to paralyze me, but I actually had to thank her. If she wasn't who she was, my ankle would be completely messed up and I wouldn't be in sports anymore."

"You knew it wasn't a snake?" she disbelieves. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I liked Ben, and Ben loves Mal," he murmurs. "She has this power over him, where it's like I don't even exist. He would have taken her side, made some kind of excuse—like she didn't know any better. But, of course, she doesn't, because she's a fucking reptile."

"Did you at least tell Ben so that he could explain to her why it's wrong?"

"What does it matter?" Chad resists, "She's dying anyway. Or did you forget?"

"I just can't help but think," she considers, "if you've been hiding when people hurt you, then what else have you been hiding?"

"I want my candy," he decides.

"Candy?"

"The mints in the bathroom," he explains. "I want them."

"Let me get them," she offers.

Mal couldn't have known her childish terror tactic would gift wrap him for another predator. It wasn't her fault. It was his, for letting him get so close and not sensing that something was wrong. He would never survive on the Isle, but on the Isle you assume everyone is a threat. That's why everyone from the Isle was so on edge when they arrived here. This country makes you believe that it's perfect, that every major threat is already locked away in an island prison. That ideology failed him.

She shows him the blue mints' cases. "Which flavor?"

"Doesn't matter."

She hands one to him, sets the others down, and then kneels back down. He takes two pills out, pops them into his mouth, and grabs the water. She watches him swallow them. "What kind of mints require you to swallow them?"

"Oh, no." Chad explains, "They're not mints. I just have them in there, so they won't get taken away."

"What?"

"You know." He elaborates, "Because you're looking for drugs, and I can't sleep without those." He closes his eyes. "I can't do anything without them."

"Is that why you're asleep all the time?"

"It's like being dead, but I get to wake up." He pauses. "It might be the only reason I'm still here." He opens his eyes and sees her crying. "I just keep hoping that one day, I can wake up and all my problems will disappear."

"After all that work to hide this," she whispers, "why are you telling me now?"

"If I get sent to rehab," Chad contemplates, "then I don't have to go back to school." She wipes her face with her hands and takes a steadying breath. "You can tell Dad now."

She shakes her head. "We're going to that meeting today, and you're going to take your classes with nothing to fear."

"What about the drugs?" he questions.

"If emotional stress is making you use," she concludes, "then you can cut down after we settle this issue."

She still thinks there's something to settle. "I thought you believed me." Her expression softens. "You still think he's a good guy."

"No," she enforces. "I believe he crossed a line. All I want is for you to feel safe."

"Then don't make me go back," he requests. "Help me."

She shakes her head. "If we do that, everything you've ever dreamed of will dissipate into ashes. I won't let that happen."

"Mom."

"No," she interrupts. "Drug users aren't allowed to be professional athletes, and no one is going to hire you to teach about health if this gets out. You shouldn't have to choose between your safety and happiness. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you get both."

"If he isn't fired," Chad asserts, "I'm not going to his classes."

"You don't have to," she reassures. "I'm sure Fairy Godmother will agree."

* * *

"So." Fairy Godmother clasps her hands. "Where should we start?"

"The emails," Chad's father answers. "Professor Hawthorne's been sending him emails every week. Do you find that ethical?"

"Every week is a bit much," she admits, "but I understand Chad's in three of his classes this year?"

"Two of which I only picked because he wasn't in them," Chad outranges.

"Pumpkin." His mother places a hand on his shoulder, before she faces the headmistress. "We just want to understand what's going on here. Why was Chad sent four times as many emails as his friends, and why is this teacher suddenly taking over those classes?"

"Professor Hawthorne dropped his Life Science course to focus on his new Virology course, and he thought trading in his year-long Botany course for two semester-long health classes would allow for a more manageable pace, given the extra effort it takes to trial run a new class and get it off the ground."

Chad glances down. His word's going to amount to nothing. Again. His mother asks, "How many health classes are there?"

"A fair amount," Fairy Godmother answers, "but no teacher has access to which students are taking which classes until after they've selected them."

"He knows my career plans," Chad speaks up, "and I've already taken half of the health classes listed."

"You think he had ill intentions," she notes.

Chad eyes up as they widen. "I think he's completely obsessed with me. Yes."

"Are there any other reasons why you think that?" she asks.

"What is this?" Chad shouts at her. "An interrogation?"

"No, no," his father steps in. "There's no interrogation here." Chad hunches over and rubs his forehead. He knew this would happen. His mother places a hand on his back, as his father commands, "Our son is afraid of this man. Don't doubt him or his integrity. Just ask yourself why."

"I wish I knew why, Your Highness." Her eyes lower. "All the other students seem to rather like the professor."

"Because he gives them cookies and helps everyone," Chad mentions.

"And that's a bad thing?" she inquires.

He gapes. "Even God isn't that God damn helpful. He's doing it for a reason."

"Why don't we ask him?" The headmistress looks from Chad to his parents. "Would you feel comfortable if I brought Professor Hawthorne in here so that he can answer for himself?"

"Could you?" Ella breathes, and her hand slips from Chad's back.

Chad straightens. "What?"

"It's the best way to settle this once and for all," Charming agrees.

Fairy Godmother picks up the landline and dials. "Yes. Professor Hawthorne. It's Fairy Godmother. I'm afraid there's an urgent matter that needs to be discussed. How soon could you come to my office?" She nods. "Thank you." The phone clanks back down, and she faces Chad. "Is there anything else you'd like to say before he gets here?"

He can't mention the hospital. They'd ask more about it. "I just think it's a little suspicious that he gives brownies and shit to the boys' teams but not the girls'."

She nods. "Anything else?"

"I mean, I really wish you would have allowed me to stay anonymous," Chad comments. "He knows things about me I never told anyone. I kind of wanted to keep it that way."

"What kind of things?"

Chad rolls his eyes before raising his voice, "He's a science teacher. You can fucking guess what." She waits, and he sighs. "Everything. I told him every secret I have."

"How does a science teacher earn that kind of trust?" she questions.

Chad shakes his head. "I didn't fully say anything. I just needed advice on some things from a professional, and he knew what I was talking about." His voice trembles, "He said he understood, that he wanted to help, and then… he betrayed me."

There's a knock at the door, and she asks, "How did he betray you?"

"He—" Chad gulps and shakes his head, "Just by doing all this."

The knock sounds again, and she calls out, "Come in."

Chad keeps his eyes up front, but the voice is so slithery. "Is something wrong?"

"Grab a chair and come here," the headmistress commands. The chair appears in Chad's peripheral vision. "Distance yourself. This is a sensitive matter." Chad's given a little space before Hawthorne sits, and Fairy Godmother addresses. "There's been some allegations."

Chad peaks at the professor. His eyebrows are raised. "Allegations?"

"King and Queen Charming claim you've been sending their son more emails than appropriate," she elaborates. "May you explain it for us?"

"Yes, well." Hawthorne nods. "I know Chad tends to delete important emails."

"Prince Chad," she corrects. "Given the circumstances, you can show some respect."

"Yes, Headmistress." He continues, "Prince Chad is a bright pupil. I sent some of the emails twice to make sure he had them, had he deleted them priorly. Three classes, that adds up."

"It is just a coincidence that the two health classes you took over this year are the same ones Prince Chad's taking, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid not." He holds up his forefinger. "But let me explain."

"That's what we're waiting for."

"Prince Chad seemed a bit alone last year," Hawthorne says. "I thought he could use some extra supervision this year so that he doesn't do anything rash."

"Are you afraid of a suicide attempt?" she interprets.

"Perhaps something a little more accidental," he informs, "but yes."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Her eyes widen. "Did you make any of the other teachers aware of your concerns?"

"Prince Chad trusted me with his problems. I thought that would alienate him."

"You should have at least made me aware."

"Yes, Headmistress. My apologies."

"And, unfortunately, he doesn't trust you anymore." She eyes from Chad to Hawthorne. "And I hear you have served treats to the boys' sport teams but not the girls'."

"Yes," he confirms.

She shakes her head. "Why not the girls'?"

He smiles. "Well. I didn't think it would appear appropriate. The girls might have taken it the wrong way."

"It's not appropriate for you to serve the boys' teams either," Fairy Godmother opinionates. "You're not their coach. You're not their nutritionist. If I'm told you have offered them food ever again, there will be an investigation."

"You're saying there won't be one at the moment?" Hawthorne slowly asks.

She raises her eyebrows. "Should there be?"

"I have nothing to hide."

Chad shakes his head, and Fairy Godmother faces him. "Is there anything else you'd like to let us know while we're here?"

He crosses his arms. "I'm not going to his classes."

She faces Hawthorne. "Professor. Any words?"

"All I wanted was to help. I'm disappointed that my attempts have backfired." He turns towards Chad. "I'm sorry you interpreted my actions as you did, but you have been my best student. You have a lot of promise, and I'd really like you in class this year."

"Whatever you say, Christian." Chad stands from his seat. "If Ben doesn't have to show up to class, then I don't either."

Chad strides out of the room, and Fairy Godmother straightens the papers on her desk. "I thought you kept your first name from the public." She deeply frowns at him. "So confidential, I could barely get my hands on it."

"So, there is one more thing you should know." Hawthorne takes a breath. "I have a personal email for family and banking matters. I accidently sent an email to Chad under that account."

"So, everyone in Chad's grade knows your first name," she assumes.

"Oh, no." He says, "It was just Chad."

"One of the reminders you sent him?"

He nods down. "No." He folds his hands. "It's no secret that Chad and Ben don't have the typical friendship, but no one talks about it. He confided in me about it last year. So, after I heard about their breakup, I wanted to check on him to make sure he was okay."

"I know that was a hard situation to be in," Fairy Godmother understands, "but don't you think the appropriate action would be to discuss the matter with his parents?"

"He was worried about his parents finding out," Hawthorne explains. "You wouldn't call King Beast about Ben's problems, would you?"

"No," she answers. "I call his mother or King Charming, but this is not about Ben's parents. This is about Chad's parents, and Chad's parents have done nothing wrong."

"Not to be blunt," Hawthorne disagrees, "but I don't believe Chad would have been afraid of his parents finding out had he thought they'd react well."

Fairy Godmother faces King Charming. "Your son and the kid you raised have had an intimate friendship. Does that bother you?"

"It confuses me," Charming admits. "I should have seen it, honestly, but they always had their excuses. Ben's good at excuses. Period."

"How do you plan to proceed?" she questions.

"Well, he is attracted to girls," Charming assesses, "so I'm thinking of having a ball for his sixteenth birthday so that he can meet all the eligible girls in the area. We hope that having a conversation will spike true intimacy."

"You mean, like what he already has with Ben?" Hawthorne starts to stand, and Fairy Godmother points at him. "Sit your bum back down, now!" He retakes his seat, and her eyes widen. "No one's leaving until Prince Chad's health and safety is settled."

* * *

After Chad snorts the powder, he leaves the stall and washes his hands before leaving the restroom. He walks back to Fairy Godmother's office, and he sees Carlos and Jane standing outside the door. "Hey!" They jump, and as he draws closer, Chad furiously whispers, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Fairy Godmother said she had a serious meeting today," Jane explains. "She wouldn't say anything else."

"I'm making a complaint against Hawthorne," Chad evenly states.

"What kind of complaint?" Jane concerns.

"For being such an ass," Chad bypasses.

"I think he's nice," Carlos opinionates. "On the field trip, he talked with me about one of the exhibits."

"He talked to you?" Chad angers.

"Yeah." Carlos's eyes shift. "He was nice."

"Do you think he's hot?" Chad questions.

"Well, he's not unattractive, if that's what you're asking." Chad strides away before speeding down the hall. He feels a hand on his shoulder before being spun around. "Hey." Carlos asks, "Are you okay?"

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Chad stresses.

"Well, I know you're grounded," Carlos says.

"That is so far from what's wrong with me."

Carlos eyes over him. "Then what is it?" He doesn't say anything. "Can I help?"

Chad glances around the hallway, and he notices the open doors. "Can we talk?" He faces him. "Somewhere private?"

"Yeah." Carlos frowns, and Chad guides him into the nearest bathroom. He checks for feet under the stalls. "Chad. What's going on?" Chad turns towards him, his heart picking up pace, as the words fail to leave his mouth. "Chad?" he worries, and he kisses him. "Hey." He places a hand on Chad's shoulder. "I thought you wanted to talk."

"Yeah." Chad breathes. "Get in the stall."

"What?"

"Now, you twink."

Carlos stares. "I thought you were done with guys and sex and all that."

Chad pushes him into a stall and locks the door. "Pants down. Turn around."

"I think I'd rather talk."

"Fine." Chad turns him around. "I'll do it myself."

"This isn't talking," Carlos complains.

Chad undoes the button and zipper of Carlos's pants, before he takes the condom from his pocket and undoes his own. Carlos starts to turn around, and he pushes him to the wall. "Come on. I thought you wanted to help." Carlos shakes his head at the floor, as Chad slips the condom on. "My parents tried taking all my stuff, but I had an extra pack. I hope it's lubed enough for you."

"I promised Aziz I'd try to make it work with girls."

"But I know you want this." He moves into him and whispers into his ear, "We can keep this our little secret. There's no need for anyone to get into trouble."

* * *

"Chad and Ben broke up," Charming comments. "And it wasn't a healthy relationship in the first place."

"Because they're both male?" Fairy Godmother questions.

"Because they can't communicate, they keep secrets from each other, and half of the time Ben's trying to eat him," Charming counters. "And I honestly believe it's Ben's feminine personality that's made Chad doubt his sexuality. Ben's submissive and diplomatic, but Chad holds more respect for him than he would any girl. He thinks Ben's just another guy, when he might as well be dating a girl."

"Let me clear this up." She pauses. "You think Chad should be dating girls, but you don't mind if Ben's interested in guys?"

"Well, Mal's obviously the guy in her relationships," Charming evaluates.

"Ah." Fairy Godmother smiles. "I see now."

"Chad just needs to find a girl he can take seriously. The ball will give him that opportunity."

"And until then?"

"We're limiting his time with Ben." Charming glances at his wife before continuing, "Chad is grounded for having casual sex and compromising a girl's reputation. If he's still afraid of Professor Hawthorne and if we can agree that Chad is at risk for suicidal thoughts, then I think it's in everyone's best interest if we commute him for a while."

"So, he wouldn't be dorming here this year?"

"For the semester," Ella interrupts.

"Yes." Charming agrees. "We have to decide what's best at that time."

Fairy Godmother nods before turning back to Hawthorne. "Any more concerns?"

"Yes," Charming intrudes, and she looks back at him. "Chad's afraid to go to his favorite smoothie shop. If Hawthorne knows all Chad's secrets, perhaps he can tell us why."

"That's my fault," he admits. "Chad saw me there once, and I talked to him."

"You're on very thin ice," Fairy Godmother warns.

"Yes, Headmistress." Hawthorne nods.

"I'm going to believe this is a misunderstanding and that you had good intentions."

He breathes. "Thank you."

"Don't make me regret it," she asserts. "Chad is a royal, and if you have hurt him or intend to, the price for that is very high."

"Trust me," he says. "I find nothing attractive about an undeveloped mind."

"It's a good thing he's one of your star students, then." He opens his mouth, and she asserts, "Be careful of what you say."

"I have a loving family and an outstanding career." He frowns. "If I really was afflicted with pedophilia, don't you think I'd have done the smart thing and gotten the surgery?"

"Clinical pedophilia is the attractive to prepubescent children," she reminds him, "but as a science teacher I'm sure you know that." He doesn't deny it. "The more you talk, the more I doubt your intentions. Maybe you're a closeted homosexual. Maybe you are attracted to teenagers. If you think the surgery will help, then do it. I don't care. What I care about is the wellbeing of these kids, and if you are innocent, you will stay away from them and prove to me that your reputation is worth all this trouble. Are we clear?"

He nods. "Yes, Fairy Godmother."

"Now, apologize."

Hathorne turns towards Chad's parents, "I'm sorry for causing you and Prince Chad so much trouble. You have my word: I will go nowhere near him ever again."

"We can take care of our own son," Charming comments.

"Of course," Hawthorne accepts.

"Leave us," Fairy Godmother commands, and he stands from his chair. "Professor." He faces her, and she sternly says, "If Chad's grade slips in any of your classes, you can be sure I will be personally looking into it."

"Yes, Headmistress."

After he leaves, she faces the king and queen. "Chad says he doesn't want to be in Hawthorne's classes, so I will be gathering Chad's assignments and delivering them to him. If Professor Hawthorne retaliates by claiming Chad didn't complete an assignment that he never even received, I will be aware of it. I'm going to keep a very close watch on this."

"Thank you," Ella says.

"However." Fairy Godmother pauses. "A lot of people think I give Ben special treatment for being king or what have you, but the fact of the matter is that Ben has a lot of medical issues. Aside from that, he's only allowed to skip classes that he's doing well in. I'm going to have to apply the same rules to Chad."

"You're saying he needs to keep his grades up," Charming recognizes.

"I recommend some positive enforcement," she advises. "It's hard for students to focus on school when there's more urgent, depressing life matters to deal with."

"Wouldn't the positive enforcement be not seeing the teacher?" he asks.

"No." She explains, "That's negative reinforcement. When someone feels hopeless, they might accept consequences without thinking. Positive reinforcement tends to work better."

"Like a reward?" Charming questions.

"In a sense." She nods.

Ella questions, "What if that doesn't work?"

Fairy Godmother sighs. "Then you can get him a therapist, and they can write a note for a reason Chad shouldn't be going to Hawthorne's classes."

"I understand," Charming says. "Is that it?"

"I know Ben's tuition was paid," she mentions. "Do you know if he's going to be here?"

"I'm afraid I don't." Charming frowns. "Between his health, his parents, and his recent disappearing act, I really can't say one way or the other."

"Okay, then." She stands from her seat. "Let me walk you out." They follow her to the office door, and when she opens it, her daughter is there. "Jane? What are you doing?"

"I couldn't hear you," she hurries before nervously smiling. "I mean, Carlos could, but he went after Chad, so we didn't really hear anything at all."

"Chad is with Carlos right now?" Charming questions.

"Um." Jane's eyes shift. "I think so?"

"Apparently not," Fairy Godmother says, when Carlos comes into view.

He strides over to Jane. "I want to go."

"Go where?" she asks.

"I don't care," Carlos stresses. "Just somewhere."

"Carlos," Fairy Godmother announces herself, and he takes notice. "Where's Chad?"

"In the bathroom, crying."

"Why's he crying?" Charming asks.

Carlos stares at him before turning back to Jane. "I'd like to go now."

"Carlos," the headmistress addresses, and he frowns at her. "Show the king some respect and answer his question."

Carlos takes a breath before facing him. "He said he wanted to talk in private, had sex with me, and now he feels guilty."

"Guilty?" Charming frowns. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not," Carlos frustrates. "I wasn't looking for a hookup today." He shakes his head. "But afterwards he said he'd pay me, so, I guess, it's fine."

Charming eyes down. "If it wasn't consensual, you have a right to tell the police."

"I could really use the money," Carlos contradicts. The king takes out his wallet and offers him a hundred. "That's a lot."

"It's what you'd be earning if you were doing this legally," Charming counters. "You should be getting more."

Carlos takes it. "Thank you."

"We need to find Chad," Ella suggests, and Charming nods.

They walk away, and Jane sadly asks, "Are you really fine now?"

Carlos whispers, "I thought we were starting to be friends."

Jane hugs him. "What is it again you say on the Isle?"

"It sucks," Carlos answers.

"It does," Jane agrees. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

* * *

"I'm sorry," Chad repeats, as he sits in the back of the car.

His father shakes his head. "We left you alone for ten minutes, and you raped someone." He looks at him in the mirror. "I thought we just had this talk when you were with that nurse."

"Charming." Ella points. "The road."

He moves off the center line. "Sorry does not cover how disappointed I am in you right now. Why would you do this?"

Chad takes a minute. "I guess, I wanted to know what it was like."

"To rape someone?" his father remarks.

"Yes," Chad calmly answers, and his father falls silent. "It was easier than I thought it would be, but it was too easy. The worse I felt, the more I pushed forward."

"We don't need the details," his mother speaks out.

"How could you even continue at all if you felt bad about it?" his father questions.

"I kept thinking about stuff." Chad excuses, "I thought if I continued, it would stop."

"You've been worried about getting sexually assaulted all summer," his father examines, "and now you've raped someone. Do you need counseling?"

"Probably," Chad admits.

"From here on out," his father asserts, "I want everything to be consensual and age appropriate. Stop stifling your feelings with sex and use your words. Am I clear?"

Chad eyes out the window. "Crystal."

* * *

When Hawthorne enters the room, he asks, "How are you holding up?"

"I don't think I'll be standing any time soon."

The professor narrows the opening of the doorway before he takes a seat next to Chad. "Do you know what bit you?"

"They couldn't find a bite." Chad shakes his head. "I think it was Maleficent's daughter. I thought it was suspicious that she offered me that drink, but… I didn't think too much about it."

"Are you going to tell the doctors?"

Chad shakes his head. "It's my fault. I know how territorial dragons are, but I kept getting in her way." His eyes lower. "I just couldn't stop feeling like what Ben and I had was special, and I wanted him back."

"If it's meant to be, it will be."

"What if I never walk again?" Chad worries.

"You're lucky to be alive," Hawthorne says. "Most venoms can be deadly. Luckily for you, dragons prefer to play with their food before roasting them alive."

"I don't care if I live if I can't walk," Chad asserts. "If that villain has ruined my career plan, I will turn her in whether Ben likes it or not."

"Let me help ease your mind," Hawthorne says, before he takes the pin from his dress shirt and opens it. "I'm going to test your nerves." The teacher moves the pin towards his thigh, pokes it through the hospital gown, and Chad yelps. "That's good." Hawthorne smiles. "If you can feel that, then that means something else should be working." Chad sits back, and Hawthorne continues, "I can tell you're stressed, but I have a lesson for you. And that is snakes are very dangerous creatures." He places his hand on Chad's knee. "You see, they camouflage to their natural environment, so they can follow their prey without being seen. They slowly move their way up, sliding by any obstacles they may have." He feels the hand in his underwear. "Going back-and-forth, their skin moves along the hard surface. They gradually move faster, and they start to make it closer." Chad's heart races, and he purses his lips; however, it cracks with every breath. "There's the attack, the prey gasps, and then it's released." He takes his hand off him, and Chad quickly tucks it away. "Sex is a very healthy way to relieve stress. No one should ever feel guilt over it." Chad stares at him. "As far as your dragon goes, the best way to defend against a predator is to play dead. If you don't make any moves, they're unlikely to retaliate."

"Excuse me," a nurse voices from the door, and Hawthorne looks at her. "No one's allowed to visit until his parents arrive."

"Of course." The predator smirks at him and whispers, "Don't worry. We can keep this our little secret. There's no need for anyone to get into trouble."

After the snake leaves, the nurse inquires, "Is everything okay?"

Chad tries to pull the gown further down, but that's as far as it goes. "Could I get a blanket, please?" The nurse nods, and he turns on his side. Why didn't he push Hawthorne away? Why didn't Carlos push him away?

Chad stands from his bed and walks towards the door, before Bernard asks, "Prince Chad. Where are you going?" Chad glances over him and then heads into the halls. The guard follows him, but he continues to stride for the living room. He should have told his parents about it before everything got all messed up. He never wanted to hurt Carlos, but he deserved some kind of happiness. Why does Hawthorne deserve to be happy but he doesn't? "Prince Chad. Slow down." He drowns him out. He needs this over with. Now.

"I still can't believe we raised our son to do something like this," his mother voices.

Chad stops before the living room arch, and his father reassures, "We didn't. He's been thinking about what it's like to be assaulted all summer. I bet you anything that the counselor we send him to is going to tell us he was trying to reclaim that power." He pauses. "We really have to thank God that this was just a misunderstanding. Imagine how much worse he would have acted out had he actually been hurt."

"Maybe if he had been," his mother contemplates, "he wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"You're not saying," his father slowly starts.

"No," she interrupts. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying." She pauses. "All I know is he's had it lucky. Anyone can cry assault when they don't know what it is. That's our fault. We've sheltered him from that."

"He's fifteen," his father reminds her. "What were we supposed to do? Show him graphic pictures and share horror stories?"

"All I know," she strongly states, "is that our son trusted that man more than he trusted us, and that teacher had every right to tell us we weren't doing our job right. Because, we're not. If we were, Chad wouldn't need this much attention."

"You don't think he accused Hawthorne for attention?"

"I don't know anymore." She starts to cry, "I'm just so simply embarrassed. If there was an assault, I should have seen it a mile away. And if there wasn't…"

"Prince Chad?" the guard addresses, and he turns towards him. "Would you like me to announce your presence for you?"

"No," Chad murmurs. "It doesn't matter anymore."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 10/28/2020


	29. Never Let Go

**Never Let Go **

**(Monday Afternoon, August 19****th****)**

"Were you on drugs when you hurt Carlos?" his mother questions.

"Was I on drugs when—" Chad gapes. "You act like it's something you can just turn on and off."

"Wrong phrasing," she realizes.

"If you're asking if I recently took anything, yeah. I did." Chad eyes away. "But that's not why I did it."

"Then explain it to me." She folds one hand over the other. "I'd like to understand."

"I thought you assumed that I just made it up for attention."

"Well, obviously, the emails weren't fake. Bernard told us about that." He looks away. "Wait. Where did you hear that?"

"Exactly." Chad yells at her, "I didn't want to say a damn thing. Bernard told you two about Hawthorne. How is me keeping my fucking mouth shut asking for attention?"

"Pumpkin."

She reaches for his cheek, but he swats her hand away. "You want to know why I probably did what I did?" Chad smiles in stress. "Because I'm powerless, and every time I say a sliver of truth, everybody hates me for me. And I don't really understand it either, except that feeling guilty feels a whole lot better than feeling helpless."

She tears her eyes from him. "Don't talk like that."

"Dad wanted me to start expressing myself with my words," Chad reminds her. "If you don't like my life, then you don't have to be around me. I don't have that option."

"You shouldn't have been relying on sex to make you feel better in the first place," his mother opinionates, "much less nonconsensual sex."

"Hawthorne said sex is a very healthy way to relieve stress and that no one should ever feel guilt over it."

"He said that?" she disbelieves.

Chad frowns. "He said a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"That homosexuality is a part of nature," Chad evenly answers, "and that he would never condemn anyone for acting on it."

"That's why you trusted him," she realizes.

"He had a scientific answer for something you and Dad kept stepping over," he confirms. "It was nice to feel like I had someone on my side."

"But then he betrayed you," she recalls.

"He was going to tell you about my sexuality and the drugs." Chad's eyes lower. "I begged him not to."

"And then what?"

Chad shakes his head. "And then he sent those emails. Like you said… it was just a misunderstanding."

"So, he really didn't do anything?" she checks.

He frowns at her. "Even if he didn't, it doesn't make this feel any less wrong."

"I understand." She places her hands over his forearms. "But we're going to get you all the help you need." She takes a breath. "And that starts with the pills."

"What? No!" Chad shakes his head hard.

"Someone needs to monitor you, make sure you're not increasing the dose."

"I need to be able to trust you."

She tries to smile. "You can."

"If you knew how much I'm taking, you wouldn't want to give me any." He whispers, "But if I stop taking it, I could die."

"I know it feels that way," she starts.

"No," Chad interrupts. "The withdrawal symptoms are that bad. You can't take them from me and just think I'll get better after a few days."

She shakes her head. "I should meet with your doctor."

"And he'd do what?" Chad dismisses, "Offer a withdrawal medication? Because I know how I feel right now. If I had to feel everything, I don't know what I would do."

"Well, you're starting therapy tomorrow." She compromises, "I can work with you in whatever way you need, but once the pills run out, I have to talk to your doctor."

Chad ruffles his curls. "Actually, my prescription is due next week."

"And you're expecting me to let you get it without saying anything?"

"No." Chad quiets, "He's expecting a nice, little notebook filled with detailed descriptions of when I'm taking it and how, but I've been a mess. Half of it isn't even written."

"Which is why you need someone to monitor you," she reinforces. "Give me the pills, you can text me when you need one, and I'll have it documented for your doctor."

Chad's frown deepens. "I take more than one at a time. Sometimes I'll take one and crush the second one."

She widens her eyes, "Crush? What? And then snort it?"

"Dr. Hoffman wanted me to document that too."

"Then we'll document it," she settles. "Give me the pills."

Chad takes them out of his bedside table and hands them over. "I take two before bed. If I wake up early, I take two more."

"I can give you two before bed," she says, "but if you wake up early, you wake up early. Either make some tea or come get me."

"And you'd give me two more," he assumes.

"And then we'd discuss it," she corrects. "If you're not waking up from withdrawals, I want you to find another way to get back to sleep. If it's a nightmare, talk to me."

Chad brings a hand to his forehead. "I don't know if I can do that."

"I know, but you've got to try."

* * *

Chad sits across from the dark brown-haired man before examining the certificates on the back wall. He's been Christian approved. "Prince Chad. How are you today?" He's tall too. "Your mother said you've been struggling with drugs. Would you like to talk about it?" He's not as pale, and his eyes are a different shade; however, the slender build is the same. "What are you thinking right now?"

"You look like him."

He inquires, "Like who?"

"Professor Hawthorne."

He smiles. "If only. That would be the life." Chad stands from his seat and heads for the door. "Your Highness?" The handle doesn't click down. It's locked.

"No," he voices, as he shakes the handle up-and-down. "Open."

"Prince Chad." He steps towards him. "Please, sit back down."

"Let me out," Chad yells, as he bangs the door. The man's shadow appears in front of him, and Chad steps aside. He slips the key into the door, opens it, and Chad runs past the barrier. His mother stands from her seat, and he runs over to hug her.

"Hey," she softly speaks, as she places a hand on the back of his head. "What happened?"

"Your Highness," the man says, and Chad slips behind his mother. "Queen Ella."

"What happened in there?" she questions.

"He got scared," he explains. "He didn't like that the door was locked."

"And what made him leave so soon?"

The therapist shakes his head. "He said I looked like Professor Hawthorne. He didn't say anything else."

"Of course." She pauses. "Thank you for trying, but I think a female therapist might be better for him after all."

* * *

Chad folds his arms in the car. "Why was the door locked, anyway?"

"People who struggle with drugs don't like to admit it," his mother explains. "When they reach their breaking point, they try to leave. It's recommended to keep the door locked so that they have to finish the session instead of turning back to the drugs." Chad sniffles, and she asks, "What did you think it was locked for?"

Chad holds himself tighter. "I thought he was going to hurt me."

She takes a moment. "Do you really think it was a misunderstanding with the professor or do you think he would have hurt you had we not stepped in?"

Chad looks out the window. "I don't trust him. He spent the last year preaching about how predators are just misunderstood. It doesn't feel right."

"He was referring to carnivores," she reminds him. "And although I do consider Ben dangerous, I know you have mixed feelings about him."

"Ben knows the things he does is wrong," Chad excuses. "Hawthorne believes that carnivores shouldn't have to conform to human society. It's like he takes it personally."

"Maybe he does," she accepts. "Wouldn't you be relieved to know the predatory sense you get from his is only from being a carnivore?"

"Not really," Chad dismisses. "All the carnivores I know think they can have whoever they want in whatever way they want. Whenever. Look at Mal and Ben."

"William's not like that," she disagrees. Chad silences, and she continues, "You don't have to trust him, but you still need a therapist. If the therapist is a woman, I need you to promise you will keep it professional."

Chad frustrates, "Is that why you got me a male therapist? Because you thought I'd keep it professional with him?"

"No," she answers. "I just thought a man would be less likely to be charmed by you. I didn't want you to try flirting your way through a therapy session so that you didn't have to share anything meaningful."

"Am I that transparent?"

"After what you did to that nurse?" His mother answers, "Yes."

* * *

Beth: _So, he was just trying to look out for you?_

Chad: _I guess. He had a weird way of showing it… You don't think he could be a carnivore, do you?"_

Beth: _I can't imagine that_. Chad nods, and she continues to type: _Some narcissists engage in cannibalism. I can only imagine the kind of resources a guy like that has._

Chad: _Maybe_. He smiles_. Can I get the pictures now?_ It takes a minute for them to appear. _Hot_.

Beth: _Is it too much? I can change it_.

Chad: _No. It's perfect. My parents will love you._

Beth: _I hope so. _

Chad: _I promise not to use the pictures as porn, although with how close I've been monitored, it's the closest thing I've seen in weeks. _

Beth: _Honestly, I thought you've already had those thoughts about me._

Chad: _Well, I try not to. It makes things awkward in person._

Beth: _Why?_

Chad: _We never actually put a label on what we were._

Beth: _I can't believe I have a boyfriend._

Chad: _And I have a girlfriend. Who would've thought?_

There's a knock, and Chad sees his parents enter. His father asks, "How are you doing?"

"Good." Chad motions him over. "I got a picture. Come see."

Chad enlarges the photo, and his father hovers over his shoulder. "That's her?"

"Yeah," Chad confirms.

He hums. "She looks familiar."

Chad examines his expression. "Really?"

"Ella," his father requests, "come over here." She walks over, and he asks, "Does that girl look familiar to you?"

She leans in before shaking her head. "No. I don't think so."

"You sure?" he asks again.

"Yes," she affirms.

"Huh." He places a hand on Chad's shoulder. "Well, she looks like a nice girl. I can't wait to meet her." Chad doesn't speak, and his father questions, "I know you said you dated her once. Do you think you can make it work with her?"

Chad stares at the screen. "I'd like to try."

"So, when do I get to meet her?" he asks.

"She was thinking the dinner could be Saturday," Chad mentions.

"See if she can come over Saturday afternoon. If she helps your mother with the cooking, she will have a say in what's in it."

Chad closes the photo and skips over Beth's comments, before he relays his father suggestion. It takes a minute for her to reply. "Is two o'clock okay?"

"Yes. That's fine," his mother answers.

"Let her know we're looking forward to seeing her," his father says, and Chad types. He lays a hand on Chad's shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

* * *

The blond woman smiles. "Prince Chad. My name is Amy." She offers her hand, and he shakes it. "How are you today?"

He shrugs. "It's going."

"Take a seat." Chad does as he's instructed, and she sits across from him. "School's starting soon. How do you feel about that?"

"I wish it wasn't," he admits, before his eyes lower. "There's this teacher. I don't like him very much. Everyone else acts like he's a god."

"What's your impression of him?"

"I think he's a narcissistic jackass," Chad opinionates. "He runs around pretending to help everyone, but he's only in it for himself."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Like I don't exist." Chad meets her blue eyes. "He made me out as a liar so that my word didn't even mean anything to my parents. He played on their insecurities." He sits at the edge of his seat. "I had to list what happened in order so that my mom would stop thinking I said that stuff for attention, because I never wanted to say anything at all."

"And why's that?"

"Because." Chad settles. "I knew he would win."

* * *

Beth: _I heard what you did to Carlos_.

Chad's heart beats hard, as he runs a hand over his hair. He replies: _I meant to tell you about that_.

Beth: _Give me a reason why I shouldn't dump you right now_.

Chad: _Because you love me?_

Beth: _Even if that's true, it wouldn't be enough. You know how I feel about sex. How am I supposed to trust you?_

Chad: _I'm really sorry. I guess, I just didn't think he would care._

Beth: _Wrong answer. Try again._

Chad takes a deep breath before typing again: _I feel trapped in my own life. Everyone is telling me who I am and what I should want. I wanted to forget that. Just for a minute._

Beth: _See you tomorrow_.

* * *

Chad hesitates before knocking on the door and cracking it open. His father turns the lamp on. "Chad? Is something wrong?"

This is so pathetic. "I can't sleep."

His mother places a hand on his father's shoulder. "I'll handle this." She slips into her slippers, stands from the bed, and ties the robe over her nightgown before heading for the door.

"I'm sorry."

She closes it before facing him. "Don't be. I told you to come to me."

"I've had nightmares, but I didn't want to bother you," Chad admits.

"I'm your mother," she remarks. "Nothing bothers me."

Chad's eyes lower. "That's not true."

"Pumpkin." She lifts his chin. "Just tell me what's wrong. I want to help."

He takes her hand to lower it to their side. "Beth knows what happened with Carlos. What if she decides I'm not worth, well, the risk?"

"Hold on." She questions, "Did you tell her, or did she find out?"

"I should have told." Chad's eyes widen. "She knows about my sexual history. She's just scared of getting hurt now."

"But she's still coming today?"

"She said I'd see her today," Chad confirms.

"Okay." His mother takes a deep breath. "So, what you do is prove to her that you care too much about her wellbeing to hurt her like that."

Chad eyes up. "How does Ben's father keep Belle around?"

"Don't," she sternly remarks. "We are not following that family's example."

"Got it," Chad accepts.

"Just woo her." Her face scrunches. "Your middle name's Charming. If you can convince an inappropriately aged nurse to have sex with you, then you can convince your ex that you're worth a second chance."

Chad nods. "Thank you."

"Otherwise," she concerns, "you're not getting shakes or anything?"

"I'm shaky and I have a headache." Chad glances down. "But I don't know if it's withdrawals or just stress."

She checks her watch. "It's two o'clock. I'll have breakfast ready by six. Alright?" He nods, and she kisses the top of his forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

The hours screech to a halt, as Chad watches the hand clock fight the morning gravity. The last time he interrupted his mother while she was cooking, the grease burned her. He's not making that mistake again, no matter how painful it is. He sits up, and the room spins. His heart won't slow down. "Prince Chad?" Bernard asks. "Are you okay?"

Chad sniffles. "Make sure I don't fall." The guard follows him, as he makes his way through the hall and down the gallery. He uses the railing to catch his; however, the height dizzies him, and he shuts his eyes hard. Suddenly, he's nauseous. "I hate living in a palace."

He sits on the carpet, and the guard asks, "Do you need help?"

Chad crosses his arms. "Just let me die."

"I don't think so." He picks him up into his arms and carries him across the gallery and through the corridor, until they reach the double doors of the dining hall. He sets him down, steadies him, and Chad walks into the room. It's a long walk to the family table.

His father frowns at him. "Chad. Are you okay?"

"I feel sick," Chad admits.

Charming looks at Ella. "Should we cancel?"

"No." She stands from her chair. "I know what he needs." She guides Chad into the kitchen, and he sits down at the island counters. "One or two?"

"I wish I could have three." She sets two in front of him, grabs him a glass of water, and he requests, "Straw?" He swallows the first pill with the water, before he uses the drink coaster to crush the second pill. She turns back around, he takes the straw from her, and cuts it. "You don't have to watch."

"No." She whispers, "I do." He takes the shortened straw into his nose, closes one nostril, and snorts the powder. He tosses the straw into the trash, and she asks, "How do you feel?"

"My stomach still hurts." He rubs his forehead. "That was the longest I've gone without it in months."

"Maybe you should lie back down," she suggests.

He nods. "Yeah. Sounds good."

Charming checks his watch. "It's half past one. Is Chad still asleep?"

Ella breathes. "I believe so."

"I hope we did the right thing by not cancelling."

"His stomach should be settled by now." She stands up. "I'll check on him."

"I'll get something for him to eat," Charming says, and they step out from the patio.

After Charming makes it to the kitchen, he sighs. "No fat. No sugar. Stomachache. No grease. No acid." He rubs the back of his neck before finding the oatmeal, bananas, and almond milk.

* * *

When Charming hears the footsteps, he sighs in relief. "You were starting to worry me."

"Sorry." Ella kisses him, before he turns to Chad.

"You feeling better?" Chad nods, and he ruffles his hair. "Good."

"Hey." Chad swats his hand away. "I just combed it."

Charming smiles. "Good to know you're better."

The bell rings, and Chad comments, "Isn't this what the doorman's for?"

Ella smiles. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that after our conversation last night."

"Go on," Charming instructs. "Open the door for her."

Chad walks to the entrance, and Ella says, "He's going to lose this girl."

Charming nods. "I'm afraid so." He whispers, "So, uh, what happened last night?"

"Oh." Ella sighs. "Where do I start?"

Chad hangs in the doorway. "What's he doing?"

"Flirting." She calls, "Pumpkin." He pops his head in, and she smiles. "It's cold. Let the poor girl inside." He nods, and the door opens wide.

The girl moves her long, sand brown hair behind her ear, before Chad guides her over to them. "This is Beth."

She offers her hand. "It's nice to meet you." Charming stares, and she awkwardly smiles with a raised eyebrow. "Your Highness?"

Charming takes her hand, and it feels the same. He whispers, "It's really nice to meet you, Beth."

Ella touches his shoulder. "Charming. Is something wrong?"

He feels the tears. "I think I got something in my eyes." He rubs one. "Excuse me."

* * *

Charming sits on the bed, resting his chin over his clasped hands. The last time Ben was dressed like a girl was when he was little. He was the princess in distress, and Chad was the brave prince fighting off the imaginary dragon. Ben didn't want to be the dragon, and he didn't want to rival the prince to get the girl himself. He wanted to grow his hair out so that he could bring someone back to life like Rapunzel did. After he'd explained Rapunzel's real story and King Beast found him with the tiara, Ben suddenly composed himself and insisted on keeping everything very real. There was no more story telling from that point on; however, there were sports, piano recitals, and an introduction into royal society.

Charming hears the door, but no one's there. He wipes his face before holding onto the edge of the bed. One night, a button went missing from Ben's shirt, and he'd showed him the extra one that's usually hidden at the bottom of the shirt. He'd practiced his speech with him, all about how he was ready to be crowned prince of Auradon and that he would put his kingdom before anything else. Charming rubs his eyes. Ben had been so nervous, but he looked so regal with the short, silver crown. He wipes the tears with his sleeve.

"Charming?" Ella turns the dimmer up. "What are you doing, sitting in the dark?" He looks away, and she strides over to him. "Hey." She sits and rubs his back. "What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking about Ben."

She softly speaks, "Still not answering?" He shakes his head. "Maybe he would answer for Chad. Like last time."

"His phone's been dead," Charming informs. "He's gone."

She hesitates, "You don't think—"

"I think he made good on his word and built a new identity for himself." His voice raises, "He made an oath to us and this country to put us first, and now he's gone."

"But he hasn't turned up," Ella reminds him. "So, at least he's alive."

"I want him to be happy." Charming takes a deep breath. "I just wish he had the curtesy to say goodbye." He shakes his head. "If I could hear his voice one more time… I'd hold onto every word."

"Maybe he will." She hugs him for a long moment before whispering, "Beth and I are going to the market to pick up a couple things. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah." He breathes. "I just need a minute." Ella kisses his cheek and then leaves through the doorway. Ben's not even dead. If he had the courage to go back out there, he'd be able to see him again.

* * *

Charming sits at the long table. "What's for dinner?"

Ella lists, "Steak, steamed vegetables, and mashed potatoes. Cubed watermelon on the side and banana pudding for dessert."

Beth sits next to Chad on the other side of the table, and Chad complains, "How's fruit pudding a dessert?"

Beth whispers, "I just thought the potassium would be good." The table silences, and she glances around before poking a fork into her steak. She peaks up before sighing. "Come on. I can't be the only one eating." Charming picks up his knife, and he notices Beth examining his movements. She doesn't know how to cut it. Ben's always been awkward with a knife. Not much use for one, when he was able to chew through meat just fine.

"Let me." Chad takes the knife from her and cuts it into cubes. "Here."

She picks the fork back up. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you don't want that cooked more?" Ella worries.

Beth's eyebrows raise. "I'm very sure."

She observes her. "You're not a carnivore, are you?"

"Ella," Charming speaks out.

"Why else would she want it that rare?"

"If I get a parasite, I get to lose another ten pounds." Everyone stares at her, and she pokes her fork at the slivers of steak. "That was a joke. Sort of."

"If you lose another ten pounds," Chad asserts, "I'm breaking up with you."

Beth stares at the bloody plate before standing from her seat. "Excuse me."

She heads for the balcony, and Charming faces Chad. "You need to learn some respect."

"I'm tired of watching the people I love kill themselves," he proclaims.

"Eating disorders are a disease," his father stresses. "You're there for your partner regardless of their illness, because it's when they need you most. If you make her choose, you're going to give her no choice but to leave you." Chad nods, and Charming's expression softens as he faces Ella. "And I know you're only thinking about Chad, but we don't need to interrogate this girl on her medical history the first time we meet her."

Ella nods. "You're right." She starts to stand. "I'll apologize."

He places a hand on her shoulder. "I'd like to talk to her first." Ella sits back down, and Charming moves past the glass balcony doors. Beth glances over her shoulder, wiping her tears, and Charming grabs the thin blanket from the lounge chair. "Here."

After he lays it over her shoulders, she holds it tight. "I promise I'm happy." She sniffles. "I mean, I was."

"I know you were," Charming acknowledges. Even though he knows they're the same person, Beth hasn't been nearly as depressed as Ben. She reacts differently to things, and no matter how much he talks to her, it doesn't feel like Ben is there. He really is gone.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He folds his arms over the balcony. "Never apologize for your struggles. The way you fight through them determines who you are."

She whispers, "I'm tired of fighting."

"I understand." He pauses. "But you just have to picture the life you want. You picture it, you reach for it, and you never let go."

* * *

"Two pills," Chad's mother says, and he takes them from her.

"Thank you." He swallows one but holds off on the second. He looks at her. "What was wrong with Dad tonight? I finally have a girlfriend, and he didn't even really seem to care."

"Oh. Um." She sits next to him. "Chad. You must understand. In your father's mind, he has two children. Ben's missing again, and he hasn't been answering for him. He's pretty certain Ben's not coming back. And even though we're sure he's still alive, your father still, essentially, still has to mourn the loss of a child. He really needs the closure."

"So, he's not disappointed in me?" Chad checks.

"No," she reassures. "Not at all." Chad takes the second pill, and she informs, "I have a doctor's appointment for you tomorrow. I'll be there with you."

Chad moves the covers over his arms. "Thank you."

She kisses the top of his head. "Sleep well."


End file.
